Whispers on the Wind
by Afalstein
Summary: From the day she first met him, Whisper has never known what to make of the strange boy. Follow her story throughout the years as she learns more about this "Farmboy." Possible Whisper/CC COMPLETE
1. Whispers in the Dark

**Whispers in the Dark.**

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She first hears about him late one night as she's heading to bed.

"Ah, Whisper." The Guildmaster calls to her as she comes inside. A couple of the younger heroes glance at her—they want to see the sister of the famous Thunder—and a tiny part of her flinches. She's all dirty and sweaty from a late night of training in the woods, and she's far from looking her best. Silly, perhaps, but she is still a girl and the feeling is still there.

But she conquers the feeling and turns to the Guildmaster. "Yes sir?"

"You have a new roommate."

She blinks. Up till now, she's been the only apprentice to have a room to herself—more of her brother's influence. Still, no matter, it'll be nice to have someone to talk to. "Who is it?"

"To be honest, I didn't catch his name." The man tugs at his moustache thoughtfully. "Quiet little chap. Maze just told me to find him a room and suggested yours."

Two important pieces of information there. First of all, Maze had brought the new apprentice in. That was strange. Maze rarely, if ever, involved himself in the training of the students, much less recruiting them. Perhaps he had found him on a quest.

But second, and most important, the newcomer, her new roommate, is a **boy**.

It's not anything too unusual really, the Guild often puts girls and boys in the same room. It's an unfortunate side-effect of the constant comings and goings around the Guild. An apprentice in a room today might be dead tomorrow, and with the shortage of rooms there's not much time to be picky about who fills his bed. It's the first time she's had to deal with it herself, but she can't feel very shocked or even embarrassed by the news.

Still, it's a little annoying, and a little troublesome. "Very good sir. I'll be careful not to wake him. Is there anything else?"

"Yes. Be sure to be at the training room tomorrow at 9 am sharp." He smiles at her in a grandfatherly manner. "Oh, and bring the boy, would you? I expect Maze will want me to take care of his training too."

She nods and runs up the stairs. As she enters the room she takes a look over at her new roommate. A boy, sure enough, and not a very impressive one at that. He's just a little stick of a kid, really, and he's all dirty. Pretty simple clothes, too, he looks like some kind of farmboy. She snorts and turns away. Ah well. She supposes it could be worse.

As quickly as she can, she sheds her outer robe and steps into a fresh pair. She is **not **sleeping in that thing, not so soon after training. And anyway, the boy is asleep, so what's the harm?

A sudden noise makes her whip around.

The farmboy is tossing on the bed. His face is all contorted, and his mouth utters piteous moans. "No… no…"

For a moment she considers waking him up—that looks like one awful nightmare—but she quickly dismisses it. Everyone has nightmares the first night away from home. And anyway, he seems to be quieting down now. With a last shrug, she lies down and pulls the covers over her head.

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He still hasn't woken up when she gets up, and she has plenty of time to dress (behind a curtain, apparently someone had the sense to put one up), before she wakes him up. She quickly introduces herself, explaining that they're roommates. He seems to be a little out of it, and when she waits for him to supply his name, he doesn't answer, just stares at her.

To break the silence, she says, "I came in while you were asleep last night. That sounded like some nightmare."

His eyes change, ever so subtlely, and he responds, "yeah…. Nightmare."

Shrugging off his strange behavior, she pushes him out of bed and shows him the way down to the Guildmaster. Time to see what this new roommate of hers is like.

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**A/N:** I just got the original Fable, because I'm behind on computer updates, and I think it's an awesome game. I could have waited a while to post this, but I thought it would be best to do so while Fable 2 is still popular. The story is essentially going to follow Whisper's appraisal of Chicken Chaser throughout the game and continuing on into The Lost Chapters.

Reviews are appreciated! I know most of you probably don't even remember this game, but I'd love to hear your feedback on how you think the characters are done in this story.

The cover, "Little Sis," was done by Orionali on DevART.


	2. Whispering Family Gossip

**Whispering Family Gossip  
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Her new roommates name is Alan, she eventually learns, and apparently he is subject to frequent nightmares. The first few weeks she keeps waking up, but after that she learns to tune them out. He never tells her what he dreams about, and she never asks.

She learns a lot else about Alan. He always sleeps in, probably because of his restless nights, and so she's always the one who has to wake him up. For some strange reason, he has a strange attachment to his stick, even sleeping with it at nights. Half of the time, he's out in the yard hitting straw dummies and looking incredibly satisfied. It's all she can do not to roll her eyes.

Yet he picks up on things surprisingly fast—or else he trains more than she notices, for it's not long before he's started sparring with some of the older apprentices. She takes him on once and it's surprising how good he is—she still beats him, of course, but he's still pretty good. She gives him some pointers and he listens carefully and improves.

What makes this all the more surprising is how shockingly BAD he is at the other arts. He has no interest in archery, apart from throwing stones at the sparrows roosting around the guild (apparently someone offered to pay him for it). And though he spends enough time in the library, he doesn't read about spells so much as about ancient heroes of bygone days.

And, of course, her roommate is unquestionably a farmboy. He rarely bathes, and the smell is really something awful. The first week, before the Guildmaster imposes the rules on him, Whisper could swear that a crowd of flies follows the boys. His habit of throwing stones at the sparrows earns him the nickname "Chicken Chaser," though a number of the nastier ones call him "Arseface," on account of his smell. Whisper just sticks to "Farmboy," it's simple and descriptive, and he has no idea that he's being insulted. He just grins quietly at her.

But perhaps the strangest thing about "Farmboy" is that, even more than her, he lives at the Guild. Most of the young children, especially those with family in Bowerstone, go home on weekends or on holidays to be with their family. Those with family farther away have to wait until holidays to go home, but usually Whisper is the only student still there on Avogratiday. But Farmboy stays, like her, and there's a strange comfort in having someone her own age to talk to during the holidays. Or at least there would be, if Farmboy talked very much.

But it's only when the Kwarton Festival comes that Whisper realizes the reason for this. It's an especially popular holiday, celebrating the Father Avo taking the children of earth under his wing and admonishing the eldest, Skorn. Possibly the oldest holiday, it's also the one with the greatest emphasis on family. Even Maze usually ports away for an hour to visit family somewhere.

Kwarton Festival is the one time when Whisper herself goes "home," that is, goes with her brother to attend the festival in Knothole Glade. They usually stay for a day or so while her brother meets with old friends and shows her off a bit. It's one of her favorite times of the year.

She's so wrapped up in anticipation as she packs her few things that it takes her a moment to realize Farmboy isn't. He's just sitting on his bed, watching her.

She turns around. "Aren't you going to get ready?" She asks.

He looks at her strangely. "For what?"

"To leave." She shakes her head. Most children are eager to get out of here. "You should hurry, your family will be here any moment."

Looking down, he begins to play with a corner of the bedsheet. "I… don't think so."

"Aren't they coming to pick you up?"

"No."

She's astonished, it's practically part of the Avo religion to bring your family together on Kwarton day. Even Skorn followers usually hold some token celebration. "Why not?"

"They're dead."

He says it flatly, without any emotion, but Whisper can see the furious way his fingers are digging into the bedsheet. She shouldn't ask any more, but she's still a child, and her curiosity demands she follow this up. "But… how…"

"They died in a raid." The same monotonous tone. "A bunch of raiders, all coming out of Darkwood forest, just up and attacked us." He raises his head and looks defiantly away from her, at the window. "I think they killed everyone in the village. Maze managed to save me, but he didn't get there in time to save my family."

She really can't think of anything to say to this. True, she's never known her father or mother, save in hazy half-memories. Thunder tells her the same pirates who brought them to Albion also killed Mother and Father. But that means nothing to her, because she's never known them. And in any case, she's always had her brother there, even if she doesn't see him much anymore since he met Lady Grey. But Farmboy… Farmboy doesn't even have that.

"You're leaving, aren't you."

Farmboy's voice starts her out of her thoughts. He's looking at her now, and his face looks perfectly ordinary apart from the muddy streaks down each cheek. She nods. "Yes." She manages. "Yes. My brother's coming to pick me up in a little while."

"You have a brother?" An odd expression crosses his face. "But you stayed here when all the others left, and no one ever visits you. I thought… I thought you didn't have any family either."

For some reason his statement bothers her. "Of course I do." She snaps, snatching her bags. "My brother is all the family I ever need."

And with that, she bounds out of the room to wait by the bottom of the stairs for the next hour or so until her brother shows up, fifteen minutes late. But her roommate's story bothers her, and when she tells her brother, he doesn't have anything to say either. So she sits by the table as her brother's friends talk and laugh, and wonders what it would be like to have no family at all.

For some reason, it doesn't seem that hard to imagine.

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**A/N**: That title makes no sense. I'm going to try to post one of these a week. Obviously I'm a little late here, but I had some technical diffficulties.

As always, reviews are immensely appreciated. I'm kinda creating a faint backstory of my own for Whisper and Thunder, just because it's kinda necessary, and also because it always bothered me. Whisper and Thunder are the only black people on the mainland of Albion, but no one thinks it odd for some reason. Of course there are all the people in Snowspire but... Thunder and Whisper don't really seem related to them.

So I made up some kind of backstory involving pirates. We may get more information as we go on... who knows?


	3. A Malicious Whisper

**A Malicious Whisper**

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It takes seven years for her to learn she hates him.

The day itself has nothing to do with it. It starts out the same as all the others. Alan sleeps in and she has to wake him up, of course. When he's finally awake, he leaps out of bed to race her down to the Guildmaster (there's some bet he apparently has with an apprentice in the Guild).

And, like every day, he beats her. She doesn't know how he does it, but every morning he's there first. And every morning it's by a little bit more than last time. It irritates her, because nothing she does seems to make a difference.

Still, the disappointment fades when the Guildmaster takes away their sticks and gives them weapons. At last! Real weapons! She's been working with them for a year or two (outside the Guild, with her brother), but it's still a thrill to pick up a spear and attack Farmboy with it. Of course, he's completely new to the sword, and he gets some nasty knocks before he understands the concept of defense.

And, of course, the minute he understands he's unbeatable. It's infuriating how quickly he picks up on the basics and starts coming back. Pretty soon she's the one getting the nasty knocks. It frustrates her, how does he always do this? She redoubles her attack, but it doesn't seem to matter.

Finally the Guildmaster calls them off it, and it's then that she hears him.

"Whisper tells me you've got her training with some Farmboy."

It's her brother, and all she can do is stare. He's never come to her practices before, she didn't even think he was interested. Yet here he is, directly interfering in her training. She barely hears the Guildmaster's reply, and it takes a few moments for her to realize what they're suggesting… a duel between her and Farmboy.

In front of her brother. She's never lost in front of her brother, but she hasn't managed to beat Farmboy for years.

The simple fear of losing in front of Thunder strikes fear into her heart, and she battles like never before. She weaves and dodges, thrusts and attacks, drawing upon every ounce of training she's received in this area. A frenzy seems to possess her, and she throws herself at Farmboy with every inch of her strength.

All for naught. Farmboy beats her, like always, and all she can do is stand there ashamed in front of her brother.

"No, no, no! That's all wrong, Whisper!"

She replays those words, over and over again, as she lies in bed while Farmboy suffers another of his nightmares. All these years of working to prove herself to her brother, to prove herself to the others as MORE than her brother, to prove to everyone that she truly is great, all vanished in a ten-minute spar. It doesn't even help that Farmboy did terrible in archery and worse in magic. All that matters is that he beat her in the ten minutes she had in front of her brother. And that her brother is disappointed in her.

So, to quiet the memory of her brother's anger, she lies in her bed, repeating, "Someday, I will beat Farmboy."

Because she hates him.

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**A/N:** Reviews are like the gentle dew that slopes from the hills to greet the plains. Like the sunshine that warms one's face at the break of day. Reviews are very nice things. I like reviews. Leave a review and I shall be very happy.

Well, so far this fic is going pretty well, though it's harder to find titles than I would've thought. Don't want them to get repetitive, but don't want them to be stupid either. We'll see how it works out.

Technically, Whisper isn't supposed to find out how jealous she is until later, or at least that's what she says. But c'mon, you know she's gotta be furious after that bout in front of her brother. Plus, I kinda wanted to make the two enemies right off.


	4. Whispers of the Future

**Whispers of the Future.**

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Sunset at the Guild is really beautiful. Usually, Whisper is too busy with training and studying to notice this, but tonight is her last night as an apprentice, and tomorrow is graduation. She feels she's earned the right to relax a little, and as she leans against the stairs, she begins to appreciate how wonderful the Guild actually is. It's not exactly quiet—heroes running in and out all day—or peaceful—not all the sparring matches take place in the ring—but it's got a certain rhythm to it, a nobility of purpose. It's an atmosphere of continual training and preparation, a separate land within Albion that thrives on war and yet curiously resists it.

For over seventeen years these walls have been her home. She's lived and breathed in this land of conflict, exulting in the constant thrill of battle. It's been a little rough, after all, there aren't a LOT of girls in the Guild, but she's managed to make a number of good friends in her time here.

And tomorrow she leaves this home of hers.

There's a part of her that's afraid, and a part of her that's impatient for it. On the one hand, the Guild is the only place where she feels she really belongs, where she even feels remotely at home. The only city she knows very well is Knothole Glade, where her brother usually takes her during Kwarton. Oh, she knows the parts of Bowerstone that the teachers take them through, but that's it. Where will she go to live, once she can no longer live at the Guild?

On the other hand, though, Whisper can't wait to leave. She's been preparing her whole life for this, and she can't wait to break out and show the world what she can do. The rushes, the attacks, the dodges and weaves with her spear… they're all second nature to her now, and she wants to go outside the Guild and actually USE them, not simply play around like they've been doing.

And she also wants to leave because, deep in her heart, Whisper knows the Guild isn't really her home. The only reason it feels like it is because it's the only place she's ever known. But even while she can't imagine any other way of living, she knows that it's not her home. She's comfortable here, but she's not happy. And she wants to go out, so she can find that home and be happy.

That's all that Whisper wants. That, and worldwide glory, fame, and riches.

"You're out late."

Oh, that's right. She also wants to defeat Farmboy, who looms over her in the reddening twilight. She hasn't managed to beat him… yet. Someday she will, but tonight is not for rivalries. Tonight is for reflection. "So're you." She points out.

"Didn't feel like sleeping just yet." He says, sitting down beside her. "I figure there're still some more things I can squeeze in yet tonight. After all… last day as an apprentice… might as well make use of this place while we still can, hey?"

She smiles a little. "Of course, Farmboy."

There's a momentary silence.

"So… what're you thinking about?"

"Oh, nothing." Whisper sighs mentally. Does Farmboy really have to ruin her moment with stupid questions? "I just felt like taking a moment to look around here. The sunset is so beautiful, I never really noticed it before."

"Hmm." Farmboy glances at the clouds. "I suppose you're right. To me they just look like flames."

"You think everything looks like flames." Whisper looks at him, annoyed.

"No… just sunsets."

Whisper decides not to mention the candles, stain-glass windows, Cullis Gates, and any kind of magic that the apprentices use. Farmboy has finally learned Lightning, but he refuses to even try the fireball, and his grades in Will are abysmal. He's almost afraid of the subject. Then again, Whisper's not terribly good at Will herself.

"Are you nervous?" She asks him.

"About the graduation?" A shrug. "Not terribly. It's just a formality, they're not going to pull me out of it now. And in any case, I have all the knowledge I need for the moment, so even if they do pull me back I can just go off on my own."

Startled, Whisper looks at him. "You'd just leave? You wouldn't even try again?"

Another shrug. "It's just the _title_ of hero that they're giving you, Whisper. It doesn't amount to much. Sure, you get to use those Gate things and you can find things to do, but really there are plenty of other ways to get around Albion, and the Guild's not the only way of finding quests."

Theoretically, he's right, but the logic sounds dangerously close to Twinblade and other heroes who have left the Guild for life of crime. But his next words dismiss that idea from her mind. "And it's not like either of those matter, even. I mean, you didn't just join the Guild to travel Albion and become famous, did you?"

That stops her for a moment. Why did she join the Guild? Partly because her brother wanted her to, partly because she didn't have any other place to go, but beyond that… Whisper has never really thought about why, exactly she joined the Guild. She enjoys it, she knows that, but why did she start?

Farmboy is still looking at her, and seems puzzled by her silence. "Of course not!" She huffs, trying to cover her confusion. "What made you think that?"

He shrugs. "I dunno. I've never been able to understand why you're here, but I figured there was a good reason of some kind. You work too hard for it to be just a hobby of yours."

Why did she come here? Her brother wanted her to be a great hero. She wanted to be like her brother. It was a simple decision at the time. And then too, everyone expected it. "_So, Thunder, when do you plan to start training the young one_?" "_Whisper, huh? Bet you can't wait to be a hero like your brother_." "_Oh, can't wait to see her at the arena_."

Thinking about it, she realizes that's all that she was really planning to do after graduation. Become a great hero like her brother. But she also realizes Farmboy has a point. She _loves_ the Guild and the training. It's not just something she puts up with for her brother's sake, she really enjoys the feeling of battle and the accomplishment from a completed quest.

And she does love being the best, or at least she did before Farmboy came along.

The familiar envious anger arises in her, but along with it there's a new feeling, almost a purpose. She loved being the best at the Guild, the best of the apprentices. But out there, in the world, she'll be competing to be the best not only of her own generation, but the best of any generation. She doesn't have to live up to her brother, she can surpass her brother.

All this flashes through her mind in an instant, and suddenly she's really looking forward to tomorrow. But suddenly also something bothers her. Now she knows why she came to the Guild, but Farmboy… "Why're you here?"

He glances at her, apparently startled out of some memory. "Hmm? Oh." He indicates the bow at his feet. "I came out to practice some archery."

"No, I meant…"

"Matter of fact, it's getting dark." He frowns at the sky. "I should get moving at it." He picks himself up and looks down at her quizzically. "You wanna come too?"

Whisper had thought of relaxing tonight. She'd thought of taking it easy, now that she's finished her training. But as she gets up and grabs the bow from Farmboy, she realizes something new.

She hasn't finished anything. Things are just getting started.

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**A/N**: REVIEW! Reviews are food unto my hungry soul and mead for my thirsty muse! Reviews guide me on my path and point me to the stars! It is reviews that connect a writer with his audience and let him know what he should be doing!

Please Review.

This chapter wasn't in my original draft, but someone asked for a more freindly view of the interaction between the two, and I realized I hadn't really put in many "friend" scenes. At least not before the big revelation. So I started to write it and it brought out a number of things I was trying to convey about Whisper, so I decided I should put it in. You're lucky, though--I barely got it done in time for today.

For those who like the rivalry, though, don't worry. We'll get back to it soon enough.


	5. Whisps of Memory

**Whisps of Memory  
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It's the day after graduation, and Whisper is meeting her brother in Bowerstone Tavern. She's telling him about the completion of her very first mission. It was fairly difficult for her first time—a troop of bandits who were hiding out in Greatwood—and she completed it easily. She can tell Thunder isn't actually impressed, but she can also tell he's happy. And proud.

And that makes Whisper happy too. Doubly so, because Farmboy's first mission was nearly laughable in comparison—dealing with wasps in the picnic area.

"You did well." Thunder tells her. "Very well. I think it's time you had this." And he slides a familiar-looking necklace across the table to her.

It's an amulet. The amulet, the emblem of their house and family, the only souvenir they have from their parents. Her father wore it, she's been told, as an emblem of his house. Thunder reclaimed it after he slew the pirates and their chief, and wore it himself during his great triumph in the arena. Over the years, it's become a legendary symbol of Thunder and his deeds.

"Brother…"

"Take it." He smiles. "I've carried it long enough, it's time for you to make your own way. Wear it in the arena when you go there.

With trembling hands, she picks it up and fastens it around her neck.

"That's right." Her brother smiles. "Wear it proudly." He picks up his mug. "Now, Whisper, about establishing a reputation for yourself—I may have a suggestion for you. Lady Grey is hiring warriors to reclaim some property of hers."

Whisper shifts uneasily on her seat. Her brother spends a lot of time around Lady Grey, and she's not completely sure how she feels about the relationship. At times it seems like Lady Grey virtually controls Thunder. And some of the things she's heard around Bowerstone…

"Some farmer at Orchard Farms has acquired some stones which he refuses to sell to her." Her brother looks casually out the window. "She's willing to pay a good deal to whoever can bring her the stones, by whatever means."

"Can't you do it?"

He looks at her, astonished. "Of course I could, Whisper. But it's not that difficult a mission, and I thought you'd be glad of an opportunity to advance yourself. Especially with Lady Grey."

She's still not sure about the idea, but she promises to consider it. For all her consideration, though, she doesn't actually decide until she meets Farmboy outside the Guild and learns that he's decided to protect the farmer.

The moment she hears that, she turns straight around to go to Lady Grey's.

It turns out Lady Grey's offer has attracted a number of other warriors. The others are essentially bandits—even those from the Guild are glorified mercenaries. It irks her to have to work with such scum, but she grits her teeth and tells herself to live with it. Because now she has a chance to humiliate Farmboy.

Except of course, _he_ humiliates _her_. Utterly defeats her. And as he stands over her helpless form on the ground, his sword digging into the earth next to her head, he smirks and says. "Now I need a trophy. Do you have an emblem or something to prove I beat you?"

Scowling, she rips the amulet off her neck and throws it at him.

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**A/N:** Wow, this one is short. I like it, but it's short. Comments, as always, are greatly appreciated. Took a break from the chapter motif, it's getting a little tiresome. I gotta think of a way to mix it up somehow.


	6. Whispering Children

**Whispering Children**

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Farmboy isn't exactly shy about his accomplishments, and it isn't long before the entire guild knows about Whisper's humiliation. Thunder, predictably, is furious when he hears about it, and blames her for not trying hard enough. He even implies she's going easy on Farmboy because she likes him.

If their conversation hadn't been so serious, Whisper would've laughed. Farmboy is a good fighter, no doubt about it, but he's nowhere close to a friend anymore. He's every bit the crude, crass rustic he was on day one, taking delight in walking around belching and farting at merchants. Flies aren't following him around anymore, true, but he still seems to find it difficult to bathe. And he's not the most well-behaved hero either—apparently he's been thrown out of Bowerstone three times for breaking in, trespassing, and stealing. (And those were just the ones they could prove.) They call him "Pilgrim" these days, because he never stays in one place for very long. If he does the authorities chase him out.

There are times, though, when he surprises her. She's in Bowerstone one day, and she decides to drop in on the school. The children are always so cute, and it warms her heart to watch them running about. Her brother is a little amused by this habit of hers, and calls it "a womanish folly." Well, she is a woman, so she can be as foolish as she likes.

They're in the midst of a lesson when she comes in, so she stays at the back of the classroom. While she's waiting, she glances around, and notices Farmboy, leaning against the door.

She's astonished, and for a moment, all she can do is stare. So far as she knows, she's the only one who comes to watch the children, and Farmboy definitely hadn't struck her as the community-service type. But it's not his presence there that's as surprising as the look on his face. He's smiling in a ways she's never seen before—it looks dreamy and really quite… peaceful. Almost tender, to be honest. A little chuckle crosses his face as the girl in front gives an answer, and one time he answers a question for the teacher—a question about killer wasps, and he brings out wasp queen head for the class to see.

Class is over before she knows it, and as the children run to pick up their things, a couple of them stop to say hello to her. Farmboy hasn't noticed her yet, he's talking to the teacher.

"Thank you EVER so much, Pilgrim, I don't know what we'd do without your generous support." The teacher is saying. "Why, we'd have run out of reading material long ago if you hadn't…"

"Don't worry about it." Farmboy grins at him. "I can't understand half of what's in these books anyway, so it's helpful for me to hear you say what they have in them. And the kids seem to enjoy them well enough."

That's right, Whisper remembers. The teacher told her just last week that they needed more reading material—Lady Grey sold the library, she recalls guiltily—and asked Whisper if she could donate any useful works she found. Although she promised she would, she can't honestly say she's looked.

Meanwhile, Pilgrim is fumbling in the bag at his side. "Here… see what you can do with this one. Guildmaster said no one's looked it up in ages, because no one's interested in the Northern Wastes these days."

"The Northern Wastes! Why excellent! The children have been needing a bit of geography lately, and works are so hard to come by. Thank you again, Pilgrim, I can't tell you…"

"Don't mention it." He says again, and turns to leave.

Suddenly catching sight of her, he stops and stares. She stares back.

"What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you that!" Whisper huffs. She doesn't exactly know what she was waiting for, but she's a little embarrassed about being caught here, and more than a little confused at finding Farmboy here. "This isn't exactly the sort of place you're known to hang around, you know."

To her surprise he looks a little shamefaced and he replies, "Well… yes." He looks around. "But… they needed help. And I can't use the books I have anyway, so... I don't know. I come down here from time to time just to give them some books and check up on the kids."

She raises an eyebrow and he hastens to explain. "It's just fun to watch them run and play and stuff. It kinda reminds me of when I was a kid, before…" There's just the slightest hesitation. "Well, before I came to the Guild."

She doesn't say anything. She can't really remember much of her childhood before the Guild. She vaguely recalls a small wooden hut and her big laughing brother, but that's it. All her life she's lived in the Guild, and most of her childhood is wound up in it.

That's part of why she likes to come see the children. She can see them laugh and play in the school. And pretend, just for a moment, that she's playing with them. She can finally be a child while she's in the school. She's in a world outside the Guild

Which brings her back to Farmboy, standing there looking across the empty desks as the teacher waves a hasty goodbye. Why is he here? He was once a child, she knows. Not for very long, but he was, and he's always held on to that.

And that thought helps her realize the truth. Farmboy is still holding on. Those few years of his life he spent as a child (of which he's never told her) are so precious to him that he comes back to remember what it was like. Because he wants to live in the world he had before the fire, before the Guild, before his revenge.

He looks at her oddly, and she realizes she's staring. Quickly she looks away.

"Anyway, gotta go." He pushes past her on his way out the door. "It'll be dark soon, and Randal said he'd get me a spot on the Fist Fighters gang."

Whisper rolls her eyes at the mention of the notorious—and somewhat illegal—Fist Fighters gang of Bowerstone. It's essentially a collection of thugs, dockhands, and lowlifes. Why is she not surprised to learn Farmboy is starting to attend also?

Yes, sometime he surprises her, but most of the time he's an incredible annoyance.

* * *

** A/N**: A story, as we know, is nothing without it's readers. And readers, as we also know, are pretty much nothing if no one hears what they think. So, to assert your existence and the existence of this story, REVIEW! Spread your voice to the winds and let the world know how you feel about this story!

So this is just some background information on our "hero" in his behavior around town. As you can see, he's not exactly a shining knight, but he does have good points. I thought a lot could be made out of a hero visiting a school daily. You have to imagine the kids would just go crazy about him, he'd be a role model and a big brother and all other sorts of things. So I was playing around with that idea, and also connected it to what I think Whisper would feel.

Anyway. Continue to write and let me know how things go!


	7. Only a Whisper

**Only a Whisper**

* * *

The mission at Orchard Farms is a little galling, because it reminds her of the last time she was there, but it's the first time she has a chance to actually work alongside Farmboy. She hasn't done that since the bandits back at the academy. He fights others with a surprising ferocity, and shows absolutely no mercy. He's not so good about remembering his teammates, either, but Whisper's fine with that, she can look out for herself.

It quickly devolves into a contest as to who can kill more Hobbes, and the outcome, predictably, is Farmboy. It's the last straw for Whisper and from that moment on she deliberately avoids him and the Guild, where people are beginning to talk about what a great fighter he is. Her familiarity with Knothole Glade lands her a few missions there, and she manages to take down quite a few bandit raids, and more than a few Balverines.

Eventually she gets a really important mission—the Assassins' Guild. It's a fairly new problem, but none the less serious for that. Apparently, it was started by some apprentice who the Guild rejected, a fellow named Hood. Over the years he's been gathering different Assassins to form some kind of murder-for-profit business. Maze described it as a sort of "Anti-Heroes-Guild: They take quests to kill and steal."

To Whisper this sounds a little odd—she's seen more than her fair share of "questionable" quests in her time—but she takes the mission regardless. There are rumors that Hood has ties to the bandit king Twinblade, and to all appearances Maze is preparing some kind of attack on them. It's the talk of the Guild, and Whisper wants to be in on it.

It takes some digging and several interrogations in taverns, but finally Whisper has the information on Hood. He has a cave in Darkwood, near the Chapel of Skorm. She makes her way there without too much difficulty and quickly gets things going.

The cave is well defended. Hood definitely has some kind of alliance with Twinblade, there are plenty of his elites running around the place. And none of the Assassins are exactly easy either. But she loves a challenge, and after a year or so of battling Balverines, she's used to fast attacks. After a great deal of difficulty and more health potions than she likes to use, she finally confronts Hood.

To her astonishment, she realizes she knows him. Not personally of course—she never bothered to talk to the arrogant apprentice who claimed he was the fastest in the Guild—but she'd be a fool if she didn't recognize Farmboy's racing rival. He was several years older than them, of course, but was held back due to his grades in Will. He was even worse than Farmboy, which is saying quite a bit.

But now that she thinks about it, she remembers why he was kicked out. A bar fight, wasn't it? With another apprentice, named Sabre, who was always arguing with him. Apparently the argument went out of hand and became a fight, and the fight went out of hand and became a dead Sabre.

She remembers it mostly because Farmboy was depressed at Hood leaving before he could beat his record. Even when he left, Hood was still the fastest in the Guild.

He remembers her too and greets her with a smile. "So, the Guild sent Thunder's sister, did they?" He studies his fingernails. "I'd say I was flattered, if I didn't feel insulted that they sent the wannabe instead of the genuine article."

After all these years, they still compare her to her brother. She ignores his insult and charges forward.

Hood's speed has increased with his arrogance. It's nearly impossible to get a hit to connect, though when you do it's sure to hurt—apparently Hood never bothered to learn how to block. Whisper wastes a lot of time flailing around at nothing before she pulls out a new trick she's learned, called the Battle Charge. It doesn't actually land on him very often, but it catches him off guard and gives her an advantage.

Within a few moments, he's lying at her feet. He barely even gets the chance to beg for mercy before she drives the spear into his eye and kills him. She regrets that decision a moment later—after all, Maze probably could have used whatever info Hood had on Twinblade—but pushes the thought away. A moments searching procures her an Assassin's seal, which she considers a suitable Trophy, and then it's back to the Guild.

She steps in the front of door to find a whirlwind of activity. Apprentices are rushing everywhere and frenzied exclamations are all in the air. "Just one man?" "Snuck in there as bold as brass." "Heard he had to kill a whole troop of 'em just to get in the camp." "Oh sure, he's dead. Head lopped clean off."

It's a bit much for Whisper to understand all at once, and she stops a passing apprentice. "Excuse me, what is going on?"

"Haven't you heard?" He asks, and Whisper shakes her head. "Oh, it's Pilgrim! Charged right into the bandit camp and slew Twinblade. All his guard, too! Say it was a real bloodbath." He quirks an eyebrow at her. "Say, where have you been, anyway?"

Whisper sighs. "It doesn't matter."

Not anymore.

* * *

**A/N: **Review! The most wonderful thing about reviews is that reviews are wonderful things! They bring the light to darkness! They turn winter to spring! And anyone, since you've slaved through this chapter, you might as well make it worthwhile by telling me how much you liked it (or didn't) My hearty thanks to almostinsane, who has consistently reviewed each chapter. It makes the world of difference.

So. This part is completely my own invention, since Whisper doesn't appear again until you reach the arena (we'll be getting to that next time). But I thought this a good place to point out the rivalry between the two again. Twinblade is your first really major mission, and it's fitting that Whisper should hear about it like this.

That's a good title, too. I like that title.


	8. Whispers of Fame

**Whispers of Fame**

* * *

She's a little late in getting to the Arena, thanks to some Hobbes in Witchwood. Still, she's excited. At long last, the Arena! Her brother has been telling her about it for years, the ultimate test of any hero. As she walks through the door she can barely pay attention to what the guard is saying about history and new heroes. The sight of the anteroom, with the many scarred warriors waiting there, daunts her somewhat, but the memory of her brother galls her to action. Even so, she scarcely has time to buy some potions and armor before the guard comes back in.

"Hey." He tells the Arena master. "That new guy made it to the fourth round."

"Really?" The warrior looks surprised. "Huh. Hasn't come back in for anything yet."

"He's tearing 'em up out there, cap'n. Something awful."

The master chuckles grimly a little at that. "He better keep it up. He's got a ways yet to go. Right then. Fourth round. We need a teammate. Who did we…" He looks over a list. "Darion! Where's Darion?"

There's a moment's hesitation, and then one of the heroes speaks up. "Uh… he's here in the corner, captain. He's dead, though. Looks like he stabbed himself."

"That coward." There's an incredibly annoyed expression on the master's face. "We'll need a volunteer then… any of you lot? No? You know just because he's new doesn't mean he's bad."

No one answers, and he turns away. "Fine then." He looks around and catches her eye. "You there! Thunder's sister, right?" She nods and he grins. "Good then. This ought to be a good start to your career. That boy out there's already gone through the first three rounds for you, so all you have to do is get out there and try to make him last through the rest of them. He won't, of course, but it should be enough to help you reach the final round."

It's all the bidding she needs. She's a little annoyed that the master thinks she needs help to make it through all the rounds, but it's outweighed by the excitement she feels as she races for the door, hefting her spear. She steps out into the sun, blinded by the light as it comes streaming down. She can't see anything, but she hears the roars of the crowd, and also the announcer's voice, calling out the arrival of "sister of former Arena champion Thunder (Again she's compared to her brother), Whisper!" Slowly her eyes focus, and she sees the circle of sand, the stone bleachers surrounding, and the tumultuous crowd cheering madly in the stands. All cheering for her.

The glory of the arena sweeps over her. She is standing at the single greatest festival for heroes, the trying fire that few are chosen for and only the greatest survive. And her deeds and her might have all earned her this chance, this honor, to compete alongside the best of the land and battle creatures from every corner of the world.

Did her brother feel this way? She wonders. Did he also, when he stepped into the arena, feel the glory and the joy of it? Feel the centuries roll beneath his feet as he walked where so many before him had walked? He must have. Everyone who comes to the arena must feel it.

One last time, she takes a look all around, at the crowds, at the stone, at the sand…

…and there she sees the last person she expects to.

"Hello, Whisper." Grins Farmboy. "Fancy meeting you here."

* * *

**A/N:** Ah yes. At last we come to the famous arena scene. This part will take up several chapters, for obvious reasons. If any of you have ideas on what I should do with it, I'd love to hear them. I've already written the part, but I can stil change it a little.

Aside from that, REVIEW! Reviews are wonderful! Glorious! Full of gladness and light and happiness! Really, who doesn't love reviews? They let the reader influence the story, and they let the writer know that someone's actually read the story. They're fun. Seriously. Go write one and see.


	9. Nervous Whispers

**Nervous Whispers**

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Whisper barely has enough time to get over the shock of seeing Farmboy before the blaring of the announcer interrupts her and she's forced to snap to attention. This isn't just some stupid mission, after all. This is the Arena. The place Whisper's been preparing her whole life for.

It's almost strangely disappointing, at first. Their first round is with Balverines, things Whisper's been fighting for years in Knothole Glade. She wipes them out pretty easily with grenades—or at least, she does when Farmboy isn't in her way. It's awfully annoying, because she can't keep an eye on him all the time, and he clearly isn't watching her very closely. When the first grenade catches him in the face, Whisper feels slightly worried, but after a while she just shrugs it off. He's probably not going to last all the rounds anyway.

Farmboy is surprisingly fierce in attacking the Balverines, but he doesn't seem very used to them. There's a strange natural talent to the way he dodges and stabs at them, but on the whole his method is sloppy and a trifle haphazard. He seems to be slashing almost at random.

Aside from that, the demon-wolves are so much cannon fodder, and she slices her way through the first onslaught of Balverines. The White one that comes out next is a little trickier—she's never had to fight one of THOSE before—but she manages to figure it out and cuts it down. When two of the monsters come out in the final round, though, she just heads at one and hopes the other one stays off her back long enough.

Fortunately, it does, and after some quick footwork and quicker rushes, Whisper manages to stab the creature through the heart. A noise makes her turn around, and she sees Farmboy slashing away at the other one. As she watches, he trips and falls over on the ground. The Balverine leaps into the air with a blood-curdling howl…

Quick as thought, Whisper's arm shoots out and her spear goes flying through the creature's head. Its body tumbles to the sand, and she pulls out the spear.

As they stand to the roars of the crowd, Farmboy glances over at her. "Thanks." He says.

"I'm going to need someone watching my back for the next couple of rounds." She replies. "Try to stay alive a little longer."

"Hmph." He grumbles, waving at the stadium. "I could've handled him."

"Sure you could have." It feels good to beat Farmboy at something.

They don't have much more time for chat, as the announcer calls out next round. Undead warriors erupt from the sand and surround them.

Whisper's never fought Undead before. Read about them, studied how to fight them, sure, but never actually met them in battle. She finds that the battle is more difficult in practice than it is in concept. Sure, they crumble easily, but there are tons of them. And they swarm. It's fast-paced, frenzied work, which normally Whisper is pretty good at, but having to make it up on the spot is a little tricky for her. It doesn't get any easier, either. Each warrior seems to have an independent style, and there's no real order or pattern to their attacks. Whisper is forced to retreat farther and farther back.

It isn't until the end that she makes her mistake, though. She's up against a particularly large and nasty-looking giant of a skeleton, and she's using her trusty hit-and-run tactic. Strike, and then retreat. Strike, retreat. Farily basic, really, and effective. Strike, retreat. Strike, re…

Without warning, something sharp and heavy crashes into her back, and she goes flying. She lands on the sand, gasping for breath, just beginning to feel the pain burning across her back. All the world is hazy and her arms feel like jelly. The arena obstacles, she notes distantly. How could she have forgotten? Brother would not have made that mistake. Brother would…

A noise makes her look up, and she makes out the foggy shape of a leering skull and the two burning eyes in its sockets. A massive blur, looking something like a sword, lifts up and starts to come at her…

There's the sound of bones splintering, and the burning eyes are gone, along with the leering skull they were in. The skeleton disappears into a heap of ashes.

Grinning, Farmboy offers her a hand. "Gotta keep an eye on those things, huh?"

She ignores the hand and pushes herself to her feet. "I suppose that makes us even." She comments.

"Who's keeping track?" He shrugs. Looking at her, he adds. "You might do something about that cut on your back. Looks nasty."

Whisper doesn't need to twist around to see, she knows it's nasty just by the way it's burning up her back. Unfortunately, she doesn't exactly carry around bandages with her, and her costume doesn't exactly offer her much spare material.

"Want me to call in the healers? Not too late to take a break, you know."

"Fat chance." She glares at him, taking out a health potion. It won't heal it, but it'll stop the pain and at least slow the bleeding.

He sighs. "Fine. Here." There's a ripping sound and he hands her a length of cloth. She glances at it… it appears to be part of an apprentice robe. "Bind up the wound." He orders.

She looks at him.

"I'm going to need you watching my back for the next couple rounds."Another of those annoying grins. "Can't have you dying in the middle of one."

Before she can think of a proper retort, the announcer's voice drowns everything out, and the next thing she knows, the Black Hand gang is all around them.

Bandits may not be fearsome to look at, Whisper reflects as she dodges among the arrows, but they are probably one of the most deadly enemies heroes can face. Monsters are wild, stupid and predicatable; and they look ugly enough for you to kill them without any feelings. But bandits are humans. They're intelligent, they're fast, and they're unpredictable. Plus, she notes as she slices one's head off, they're harder, at least for Whisper, to kill without qualms.

"Behind you!" A voice breaks in on her reverie, and she swings around to see a particularly large bandit disappear in a slash of blood.

Farmboy is there, glowing with some strange red energy and a somewhat crazed look in his eyes. "Stay alert!" He yells, slashing again at some very unlucky swordsmen. "Keep moving!"

Whisper spots someone charging at him and rushes forward, impaling the man on her spike. "You stay alert yourself!" She shouts back.

He grins, but suddenly stiffens as an arrow thuds into his back. "Agh!" In one swift move he snaps off the shaft, leaving the point buried. "Listen!" He shouts. "I'll keep these guys off your back if you take care of those stinking cowards in the rear!"

Whisper gives him a swift nod and makes a dash through the press. The other bandits try to close in on her, but as promised, Farmboy is right there and they can't touch her. She dispatches the archers with ease and then whips around. Farmboy is being pressed on all sides, but a quick rush forward smashes them out of the way, bringing her to his side.

She turns around, her back to his, and brings up her spear. "Shall we finish them off?"

There's a smile in his voice. "After you."

It takes little time to mop up the bandits. Using the same tactic, they sail through the next two rounds of them, and then it's breathing time. Whisper uses the moment to draw out the arrow head buried in Farmboy's back. It's dug into his flesh pretty deeply, and he gives a hiss of pain as it comes out.

"Maybe you should see the healers." She suggests.

"Fat chance."

She shrugs. "Suit yourself." Suddenly her head jerks up. "Trolls? Did that announcer just say trolls?"

"Sure did. Two of them, actually." Farmboy watches in disinterest as two lumbering shapes rise from the ground. "What's the matter? Haven't you ever fought trolls before?"

"You HAVE?"

He glances at her. "That's a no then."

The conversation is interrupted by a large boulder that crashes next to them. "Come on." He orders, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a run. "They're not too bad if you keep moving. You just run past their rocks, smack them, then dash back before they can punch. Hit and run. Perfectly simple."

"Simple?"

He looks at her and frowns. "Tell you what." He says. "I'll distract them both while you sneak up on one and attack him. Then I'll take the other."

She tries to follow through on the plan, but she simply can't do it. Whisper's good at fast strikes, sure, but only ones that she's practiced through a hundred times before. She's not good at thinking up new strategies on her feet, and even worse at implementing them. She manages to dodge the worst of the earth troll's attacks, but still she's barely made an impression by the time Farmboy has to come in and save her.

The rock trolls are even worse. Apparently Farmboy hasn't met these either, but even so he quickly picks up on how to attack them. Whisper, on the other hand, hangs back trying to figure it out, getting constantly pummeled by barrages, and again, it's Farmboy who has to save her.

He looks at her as he pulls her to her feet. "I would've thought you'd be better against those." He comments. "They fit your attack style exactly."

"You thought wrong." She comments shortly, inwardly fuming at being beaten again. "Anyway, it's a good thing I decided to save you back in the first round, or you wouldn't be here."

His face darkens at the dig, and he snorts. "Neither would you, anymore." He looks up. "The sky's growing dark. That can't be good."

It isn't.

Whisper wonders, momentarily, where exactly they found an enormous scorpion-king monster, and why on earth they decided to ship and imprison it in the arena just to kill heroes. The thought is momentary, because at the moment, she's desperately running to avoid the creatures berserker charges and unpredictable tail whip attacks.

Where's Farmboy? Right there, on the opposite side dancing about trying to avoid the creature. He seems to be making a break toward the rear… she'll dash around that side and meet up with up with him.

Unfortunately, just as they meet the creature pulls some new kind of attack-from underground technique, and the two of them go flying, landing more or less on top of each other.

"Drat." Farmboy mutters, blood streaming from his face. He rolls off of her, leaving her heaving and panting on the sand. "That thing's fast. I suppose we could shoot at it. How's your archery?"

"Terrible. Yours too, I imagine." Whisper comments, struggling to a sitting position. "Where'd that thing come from, anyway?"

"Underground. Apparently it can shoot vines up wherever it likes." Farmboy replies. He's eying the creature some feet away. "Interesting though… it doesn't look like it can move while it does that. We could attack it when it's frozen in position." The vine disappears and he stiffens. "Oh crap. Run."

"What?"

"Run!" He grabs her arm and pulls her away just as the beast charges. "We need to keep running." He explains, as they dash around the arena. "Only way to avoid the charges. Now, I think I have a plan for dealing with that tail thing."

"A plan?"

"Sure. He can't move when he shoots up the vine. So we just keep running around until he tries to send the vine at us, and then we rush straight at him and slash him."

"Where?"

He looks at her as if she's insane. "Does it make a difference?"

"And you're supposed to be the genius." It feels good to say that. "Look at that thing. It's covered in armor. Any attack we do is just going to glance off." There's a sudden roaring as the scorpion charges at them, and Farmboy goes into a quick roll. Caught off guard, she rolls in the opposite direction and then runs to catch up with him.

"Hadn't thought about that." Farmboy admits. "So… weak points. Probably the eye. Big, single eyes like that on monsters are usually weak points."

Whisper feels like pointing out that most eyes are weak points, period, but decides to forego it. "So you're going to dash right in between those pinchers and around that tail to get in a strike at the eye?"

"If it's the only way." He glares at her. "Why? You have any better ideas?"

"The belly, you idiot." Whisper rolls her eyes. "Scorpions are weak underneath."

He stares at her. "You've fought one of these before?"

"What?" She looks at him. He's got to be kidding. "No, but I know what most scorpions are like, and I'm betting this one is pretty similar."

"Fine. Belly it is, then."

Fortunately, the monster is already gearing up for its vine attack, and the second it comes shooting up, Whisper and Farmboy charge at the rear of the creature. Whisper's a little slow and confused—It's a new attack, and even if she thought it up, she's still not used to it—but Farmboy charges in without hesitation, avoiding the kicking sidelegs with ease. His sword plunges deep into the soft underbelly, and the two hear a rewarding scream from the creature. Whisper thrusts her spear in at the opposite side, and another scream rips out.

"Now back!" She hears Farmboy order, and she immediately rolls away.

The strategy works well, and they manage to get in quite a few solid hits before something new happens. The beast simply upends itself and burrows away into the dirt. The two stop and stare. There's nothing left but a few tiny scorpions left crawling around in the dust.

"Did we win?" Whisper asks.

"Doubt it. The sky's still dark." Farmboy glances at the insects. "Anyway, doesn't matter. We still have stuff to kill." And he stabs one of the scorpions with the point of his sword.

A scream erupts from underground, and instantly both heroes understand. They manage to kill another five or six before the creature comes burrowing back, angry and ready to charge. By this time, though, they're used to it, and they easily dodge. Not even Whisper has any problem rolling around, and when the vine attack comes, she gracefully dashes forward and plunges her spear into the belly just as Farmboy's sword stabs at the same point.

The creature gives a last death scream, rolls over, and finally lies still.

The sky begins to clear, and Whisper blinks as if awoken from a bad dream. The sun is still shining, the sand is still underfoot, and the hot air still wafts across her face. Farmboy, beside her, is panting, disheveled and bloody, and she can feel the dirt caked on her legs and the sweat beaded on her brow, but apart from that there is no sign of the death struggle they have just been through. Even the armored carcass of the mighty scorpion is gone, dissolved into dust.

All around them the crowd is roaring. Again Whisper feels the glory, the power, the exultation of the arena, but now it feels different… empty somehow. This world of popularity and renown… it has nothing to do with the nightmare of blood and poison she has just suffered through. It seems false and petty.

"This is the life." She says, trying to believe it herself. After all, this is her life, or at least what her life has been for. This popularity and renown has been what she's striving for all along. Everything she's done has built up to this moment, standing in this arena.

But now that it's come, she feels it… wanting somehow.

"This is the life." She says again. But suddenly she hopes this isn't _her_ life, because if it is, it's not one she wants.

Farmboy, who's simply glancing around impatiently, doesn't even seem to be listening. She just barely manages to catch what he's muttering "…so much for the blood, but where are the secrets, Theresa?"

She doesn't have time to wonder what that means, as the announcer claims their attention once more. "It's the one, the only, the Hero of Heroes, Jack of BLADES!"

And indeed it is. Barely a red spot on the towers at this distance, but it's definitely him. And for some reason, he terrifies Whisper, even when she can barely see him through the waves of heat rising from the sand. She barely even hears what he says until he reaches the end.

"…I have a proposal to mark the occasion. One final match."

Another? One more match? Whisper isn't sure how much more she can take, and she's pretty sure Farmboy isn't doing too well either. Curious to see what he thinks, she glances over at Farmboy and is surprised to see how intently he is watching Jack. He seems fascinated by the figure. What can this final match be?

"…A fight to the death between the two heroes left standing."

* * *

A/N: I actually hadn't planned on writing this part, just on skipping to the end where he and Whisper fight. But so many people gave me great ideas for the arena progression, I felt I had to write this. So you see? Your reviews do matter! They can change the world! In that spirit: REVIEW! Grant unto me your insights and criticisms! Your suggestions! Anything you think may help!

Normally, I don't write action scenes (As a number of you have noted.) I don't think they translate well to written text. If you read LoTR, it's astonishing how little time Tolkien spends on describing the fight scenes. But this IS the arena, and it's kinda hard NOT to write about battles for it. So. Here you are, and it probably demonstrates why I don't do it more often.

Next week: The End of a Hero.


	10. The End of a Hero

* * *

**End of a Hero  
**

**

* * *

**

She's kneeling in the sand, and the sun is beating down her warm brown back. Beaded sweat all over her face, she bites back a cough from the dust-choked air suffocating her. But right now she can't think of any of that, because there's a throbbing red gash in her side. And the man who put it there is standing right over her.

It's all she can do to cough out, "Please, Farmboy. Please… we had a deal!" A cough chokes her and she doubles over, eyeing her spear, just out of reach. "Please…" she manages to whisper. "You don't have to… kill me."

She wonders if he can even hear her. The crowd's roar is surging around them like a wave of blood. And even if he can, will he listen?

"We had a deal…"

She says that, but she wonders if it's even true. At the beginning, to be sure, she agreed not to kill him. At the beginning, when they were calm and collected, brothers-in-arms against the scorpion king. At the beginning, when they were told to battle each other, she swore she would not kill him. Alan was her rival, her foil, her thorn in the flesh, but never her enemy. Going into battle, she'd been determined to make a good show of defeating him, nothing more.

But that was the beginning, before the fight began, before all the memories came rushing back. Suddenly she wasn't in the arena. She was in Orchard Farms. In the Guild. In the Training Ring, bobbing and weaving and fighting the dark-haired farmboy in front of her. She was there again, under the eyes of her master and brother, fighting with Farmboy.

And again he was humiliating her right in front of them.

It was the Hobbes all over again. The Assasin's Guild all over again. The stones at the farm, all over again. Every single battle she'd ever had with Farmboy, all over again. Again and Again and Again. Farmboy. Defeating her. _Humiliating_ her. And as she leapt and dodged and thrust, the thought throbbed in her brain. "I will not lose. Not again."

She forgot all about putting on a show, about pulling punches, about being careful. She forgot everything except fighting him, and defeating him. Even if she had to kill him. In her mind echoed the words. _One day, brother, I will triumph in the arena. One day, I will defeat Farmboy_. And she felt in the pounding of her heart and the strain of her arms that today was the day.

It almost was. That's what scares and fascinates her at once, was how close she came to actually killing him. It was the chance of a moment that had placed her, instead of him, where she now was.

No, not chance. It had been skill. But it had only been a moment.

He had been knocked back by one of her rushes and fell onto the sand, his sword flying from his grasp. Whisper had leapt high in the air, spear in hand. She remembered the blood pounding in her ears and the lion roaring in her throat as she bore down toward him. She remembered the white of his wide eye as he rolled to face her, looking straight at the spear shooting down at him.

And then lightning had leapt from his fingers and she was blown backward. She hadn't expected that. Farmboy had never been good at magic.

How could she have been so stupid? How could she have forgotten their deal, forgotten her code, forgotten everything and anything in that thoughtless moment? What was she thinking? She didn't even think about it, really, she's killed hundreds in the exact same way she was about to kill Farmboy. What had she been trying to accomplish by being so thoughtless? What end did she have in mind?

But it doesn't matter. None of it matters because now she is kneeling in the sand, with her life leaking through her fingers to the sand. And all around her, the crowd is roaring for her death. All she can do, with her will spent and her life ebbing, is to gasp, "We had a deal." Even though she knows she was about to break it.

"Please, just… walk away. You don't have to kill me."

He's not even looking at her. He's staring off at the stands, at the gate, at Jack of Blades, at anything except her face. He's just standing there, as if in some kind of trance, sweat dripping onto his armor, and his own breath coming in gasping heaves. His long black sword hangs from his limp, weary hand. It's close. Too close. But he's not looking at her, and he probably can't even hear her.

"Please," she gasps again, "Please don't…"

"Whisper," he says suddenly. "You know that quest I did? To the bandit camp?"

"Yes," She whispers. "Yes."

"I killed them all, you know," he says, shifting his weight. The sword glitters with his movement, and Whisper tries not to flinch. "I killed them all, and I got to Twinblade. Do you know what he said?"

"What did he say?" She murmurs tonelessly. The stands are starting to look a little blurry.

"Do you know what he said?" He repeats, as if he hadn't heard her. Maybe he hadn't. "He said he was a hero once. Just like us." He laughs, and to her it sounds strained. "Can you believe that, Whisper? Twinblade, leader of the bandits, a hero once. Can you believe that?"

"No, no." She cries, despite the fact that it was common knowledge through the Guild. "No."

"He begged for mercy, too." He continues. "Said didn't have to, after all it was punishment enough to remove him as leader, because no one would accept him anymore. Glory all gone and all that."

"Oh, did he?" There's no need for her to say this. They both know how the story ends.

"I killed him, of course." He says. "Put my sword right through his skull. Funny, you'd think a man as big as that wouldn't have a head like everyone else. But it cracked open just like all the others. Eggs, y'know. That's what I always think of when they go." He laughs again, and this time she _knows_ it's strained. "He deserved it, the slimy bastard. For what he did to Theresa. He deserved it."

"Oh of course, of course…" She moans, completely ignorant as to who 'Theresa' is.

"But he said he was a hero once, like us." Farmboy's still not looking at her. "I didn't understand that, right then, how that was possible. How does a man who lives to be a hero become a villain? How do you start out with love and end up with hate?" "

"I don't know, Alan, I don't know." She's sobbing full out now, and she doesn't even care that she's crying in front of two thousand people, still roaring for her blood. "I don't know. Oh, God, Alan…"

"I mean, people have reasons for what they do." He continues, utterly lost in thought. "Always. Reasons. Reasons reasons reasons. They have reasons to become heroes, and they must have reasons to stop being heroes. A purpose, y'know, or an end to pursue. But how would trying to follow one end lead into a completely different end? How could you forget about one and change it for another?" Wiping the sweat from his brow and coughing a little, he wheezes out. "But then... villians have their own purposes too, y'know. Ends. So what makes a hero's end different from a villain's?" He suddenly looks down and his voice grows louder. "What is it, Whisper? What is the end of a hero? Do you know? Can you tell me?"

"No, Alan, no, I don't know." The world's going black around her already, and she can only whisper through the sobs racking her dry. "No I can't tell you... Alan, please, for the love of..."

"I think I do, Whisper." He interrupts her as he grips his sword. "I think I do understand, now."

The sword flips up and she flinches. The crowd's roar swells like a sea in expectation. She should be able to look up and face her death, but she can't she can't look…

Something thuds into the ground next to her head.

"I understand, Whisper."

Sword on his shoulder, he turns and walks out through the arena gates, accompanied by the booing of a disappointed mob, and finally she dares to collapse to the ground. As the blackness closes her eyes she turns her head so slightly to see what landed in the sand…

It's the amulet.

* * *

**A/N**: Ha! I'll bet you thought "end" referred to death, didn't you. Out of curiousity, how many of you thought she was going to die when you were reading through this? I tried to make it a real decision that Farmboy is struggling with at this point in the story. Do please let me know if it worked. In fact, drop a line and tell me so! Tell me what you thought of the story! REVIEW!

Yeah, this chapter breaks the "Whisper" motif, but it was too fun a title to pass up, and I don't think anybody was really caring about the funny titles anyway.

We're nearing the end of Whisper's public involvement in the story, so we're going to do some behind-the-scenes stuff coming up, and also a little AU. Obviously, AU's can go anywhere, so anybody with ideas are welcome.


	11. Whispers Lost in Empty Hallways

**Whispers Lost in Empty Hallways**

* * *

It takes her ten minutes with the physicians to discover what an idiot she's been the past five years. And the first eight don't count because she was asleep.

Since they've both graduated, Whisper has hated Farmboy (Pilgrim, now—she can't bring herself to say she was beaten by a farmboy). She's striven to defeat him, humiliate him, even simply surpass him for once. And for each moment of the past five years she has failed, and hated him for it.

But now, in the final and greatest loss, she realizes what a waste those five years were. Because in the final defeat, she's learned that Pilgrim was never truly her enemy. A rival perhaps, but never an enemy. In fact, as she thinks back on how he's always risen to her challenges, always challenged her in return to be even better than she was, she realizes that he's been a good friend for all those years.

And as she lies in the bed, fingering the amulet he gave back to her, she wonders what on earth she was thinking, to make his life a living hell all those years.

She should apologize.

The though gives her new impetus, and she gets out of bed, ignoring the healers' protestations. She lets them fasten a bandage to her side—there are some things that even health potions can't fix—but after that she's out the door and running down the hallway. She doesn't know why the apology is so urgent. After all, it's waited for the past five years, it can wait another day or so. But for some reason she feels she has to say it, and say it now. For some reason the apology is important.

She knows that, but she doesn't know why, until she turns the corner and sees her brother. And Lady Grey. Talking to Pilgrim.

"…impressed, and that doesn't happen often." Lady Grey is saying. "I would so love it if you could come and visit me, we have SO much to discuss…"

Whisper's heart turns sick. Her brother has often told her the story of his first triumph at the arena, and of how Lady Grey invited him over shortly afterward. She knows exactly what's going on here. Strangely, though, she's not hurt to see her brother get thrown aside like a used basket. For some reason she's always expected something like this of Lady Grey. Even more strangely, it does hurt to see Farmboy—Pilgrim--standing there with a bewildered look on his face.

Why is that, she wonders. After all, her brother has always been the only family she's ever had. He's always protected her, nurtured her, helped her to become what she is today. She has always felt at home with her brother.

No. That's not true, she realizes. Even with her brother, she's always felt slightly out of place. Her whole life, she's been trying to come to where he is, trying to meet her brother on some common ground. But she's never arrived. She's always been slightly behind, slightly distant from her brother. As she watches her brother hiss a final insult at Pilgrim and then walk away, she feels as if that great man clad in armor is not her brother, but some stranger, a stranger who has taken a great interest in her career, but not in anything more. No, she's never really felt "at home" with her brother.

Whisper takes a step back into the shadow, gazing up at the high walls and towering statues of the hall. This was the home her brother had planned for her. This place of greatness, of majesty, of fierce determination and battle… this was the realm in which she was supposed to feel at peace. The arena of battle was to have been her solace of mind.

It almost was. If she had beaten Pilgrim, instead of the other way around, perhaps she might have felt comfortable here, as her brother did. She doubted it, though. Her whole journey as a hero had been done for her brother, an elaborate façade to pretend she was larger than she wanted to be. Certainly now, standing amongst these titans of stone, she knew she could never find a home there.

So where could she find her home? Where should she, now that she knows?

Unable to find an answer, Whisper shakes herself out of her stupor. Farmboy had disappeared. She needs to find him and apologize.

* * *

**A/N:** Yeah, I'm a little behind this week. Usually I submit the chapter just before I go to bed on Monday, but yesterday I was distracted and very tired. So I'm submitting this now. We'll see how that affects the viewer rate. It's still Tuesday, right?

Anyway. One more chapter before we completely leave the Arena. Sorry to take so long on it, but it's an important part for Whisper's character.

Reviews very much appreciated.


	12. Ghosts of the Past

**The Ghosts of the Past**

* * *

"Pilgrim!" She calls to him just as he's walking out the gate.

Alan turns around, a surprised eyebrow lifted. "Whisper? You're out of the healers hand's already?"

"I escaped." She shrugs.

"Ah." There's a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Say, since when am I 'Pilgrim' to you?"

The question hurts for some reason, but she hides it. "Can't exactly go around saying I was beaten by a Farmboy. Sounds better to say I was beaten by a Pilgrim, especially since the name's going to be so famous now."

"Yeah, I know." A touch of annoyance can be seen in his eyes. "Haven't stopped hearing it since I got out of there." He jerks a thumb at the arena doors.

She laughs, and it feels oddly natural. So typical. Legendary for five minutes and he's already annoyed with it. After all, Farmboy—Pilgrim—never was concerned with how famous he was. It must be very irritating for him to suddenly become legendary. But then, what did he come to the arena for, if not for fame?

He's smiling, apparently relieved to see someone who isn't overawed by him. She's about to give her apology when someone else breaks in.

"Hey! You!"

The harsh call resounds against the stones of the entryway, and everyone turns to see who is being so rude to the legendary warrior. Whisper is puzzled. A mere bandit? She moves forward to challenge him, but Alan grips her shoulder and shakes his head, surprisingly calm.

"You." Says the bandit as he comes up. "Your sister says she wants to talk to you. At the Grey House."

Alan nods. "Tell her I'll be there shortly."

A curt nod from the bandit, and he disappears.

"Hang on a second." Whisper looks at Alan in disbelief. "You have a sister?"

Apparently puzzled, he glances over at her. "Yeah."

"And she's a bandit?"

"Well… seeress, more. But she leads the bandits, or has since I killed Twinblade, so… yeah, I guess so."

"Since you…" Her mind is whirling. "But… you… Your sister… was Twinblade's famous seeress."

"Yes."

"But… I thought your family was all dead."

"Well, up to a month or so ago, I thought so too." He looks down, his voice a little altered. "But Maze told me he'd found some rumor of my sister, and I went to find the seeress to see if she could tell me anything. I had no idea she actually WAS the seeress."

"Then… you attacked Twinblade because…" She's piecing an astonishing world together. "…it wasn't even…"

"Oh, it was a quest alright." He assures her. "But Maze knew I had a personal stake in it. That's why he asked me and not you. Otherwise I think it would have been something of a toss-up."

"So you have a sister after all…" Suddenly something clicks. "…Theresa?"

"Er… yes." There's a good deal of surprise on his face, but just a touch of pride also. "That's her name. She's kinda kept low since Twinblade's death, but she keeps some bandits around her still. I've tried to bring her back to the Guild, of course, but she won't come." His face darkens. "Something about a thing that's chasing her, and how she hasn't found her place in the world yet." He looks down the path where the bandit disappeared. "It's unusual for her to contact me like this."

She stares at him, trying to picture Alan as a brother. As a brother to a bandit seeress, no less, who he can't even protect even though he wants to. She tries to picture Theresa also, a girl thrust into a world of danger and intrigue, who wanders about because she hasn't found her place in the world.

For some reason, Theresa's figure seems almost… familiar.

He looks back suddenly and catches her staring, and she glances away quickly. "I should get going." He says, with a small smile. "Listen… next time we meet… stick to calling me Farmboy." He winks. "It's a fun name."

It isn't until he's disappeared into the darkness that she realizes she forgot to apologize.

* * *

**A/N**: Hey readers! Be Reviewers! Join the ranks of the noble few and stand up for good writing everywhere! Point out the flaws you detest and the virtues you admire, and help us all learn how to be better writers!

This one marks the end of the arena arc. It almost didn't happen. I've been stretching things recently because of some tests I had to do, and I haven't written on this story at all. But fortunately this one was pretty much written out already, so I just polished it up and here you are! We'll take a look at how Whisper handles the Arena fallout from her brother and from CC.


	13. A Quiet Talk

**A Quiet Talk**

* * *

"So… what happened to the boy?"

"To be honest, I don't know." Alan shrugs. (He asks her to call him Farmboy, but for some reason she can't think it anymore). I was just standing there, talking with the old lady, and the next thing I know the boy is out of there! Like a shot!" He chuckles, glancing at his empty beer mug. "I tried to call after him, but he was gone. That Grandmother of his must've been awful."

"You still took the money." Despite herself, Whisper can't stop her own smile. "And it doesn't sound like you tried to stop him or anything."

Alan shrugs, trying to look innocent. "It wasn't part of the quest." The smile on his face fades a little. "I hope he's okay."

"He should be fine." Whisper assures him. "From your description, he seems to be a born survivor. He got into the Hobbes' cave, didn't he?"

"And out, with my help." Alan nods. Suddenly grinning again, he adds. "We should see if we can find him. He might not make a bad hero himself when he gets older."

Whisper smiles again, holding in a chuckle of her own. It feels so odd to be completely relaxed, almost comfortable really, talking with Alan in the Bowerstone Tavern like this. And yet it must nearly be the third time this month she's run into him like this. He's been in Bowerstone a lot recently.

Not that that's surprising. For weeks the town has spoken of nothing besides Pilgrim's visits to Bowerstone manor and Lady Grey. One lady in the tavern the other day even said he'd gotten a black rose at the corner store. And there's only one person he could possibly be buying THAT for.

"So how're you doing?" Alan asks, looking at her over the rim of his glass. "Guildmaster says you haven't been out on any quests lately. Are you feeling alright?"

"Oh yes." Whisper nods, glancing out the window. "I'm fine."

"Oh. Okay. Why haven't you taken on any quests lately?"

Indeed, why hasn't she? There are plenty of quests waiting for her at the Guild. Some have even asked for her specifically. And she would almost like to get out of Bowerstone. For some reason all the gossip around here about Pilgrim sickens her. Plus, then she could avoid Thunder for a while. Her brother has been haunting the bars recently, and he's made some rather disturbing suggestions about how she could stop Pilgrim from "taking" Lady Grey away from him. It would be easy to just run over to the Guild and pick up some paltry mission like escorting traders or something.

"Hey. Whisper? You still here?"

Whisper sighs and shakes her head. "I don't know. I just don't feel like it, I guess."

He looks at her, confused, and she hastens to explain. "It just… it just seems all so cheap. I mean, I've killed Balverines, trolls, giant scorpions… even some of those Minion things that've been prowling around…"

"Where'd you run into those?"

"Outside Bowerstone somewhere." She shrugs. "By that old mill, I think. Why?"

"No reason." Something flickers in his eyes. "What were you saying again?"

"Oh… well, anyway, everything just seems so boring now. I mean, half the fun of going around adventuring came from meeting all these strange and dangerous creatures. But now… there's nothing to it anymore." She looks at him. "I'll bet it's the same with you. After all, you haven't been doing much adventuring yourself recently." She knows there's probably more to that than boredom, but for some reason she feels compelled to press the issue. "Hero-work no fun for you anymore either?"

He gives her an odd look. "I wasn't aware hero-work was supposed to be fun."

Oddly, she feels almost chastised, and looks down. There's a short silence until he speaks again. "I hear you've been helping Mr. Gout with the children."

Quickly she looks up. "Who'd you hear that from?"

"Mr. Gout." He grins at her. "Went there the other day to drop off a book about Twinblade, and he mentioned about how you've been taking care of them. Said you even took his place the other day when he was sick."

"Oh." She feels the blood rushing to her face, and furiously hopes he can't tell she's blushing. "The poor man deserves a rest. And I don't really have anything else to do, so I might as well help him."

"Haha. The kids must love having the famous Whisper as a teacher." He tilts his head back and shakes a few last drops out of his mug.

It occurs to her distantly that Alan is one of the few people to still consider her 'famous.' Certainly her brother doesn't anymore. "If they do, they haven't given much indication of it. They practically run me off my feet. I don't even think they even know I used to be a hero."

"Used to be…?"

"Anyway, I'm certainly not the person they're most impressed with." She continues, ignoring the question. "They talk about you all the time. What you've done lately, where you've been, all the books you've brought them… I simply can't get them to stop."

"That's odd." He lifts a deceptively puzzled eyebrow. "When I was there the other day, they couldn't stop talking about YOU."

She feels the blood rushing to her face again and quickly looks away before it becomes too obvious. "I thought you said Mr. Gout was the one you heard it from."

"Oh I heard it from him." There's a light chuckle to his voice. "But he only got to tell me after I'd heard about it twenty times from all the children. They didn't wait to ask me about the Hobbes or my new sword or anything; they just told me all about this wonderful new teacher they had."

She's definitely blushing now, and it's all she can do to glare furiously at the table. "Whatever."

"What? Are you upset?" He seems puzzled. "What's the matter? It sounds… well, it…"

"It's just not… a hero isn't…" She fumbles to explain. "Look, just forget about it, okay?"

"Okay…"

"Good."

There's an awkward silence, and Whisper tries to hide it by gulping down the rest of her beer, rather noisily. She sets it down after a while, and for a moment the two of them just sit there, staring out the window into the darkened street. A drunk is winding his way along the street toward the gates.

Finally Alan sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "Hey, Whisper…"

She looks over. "Yes?"

"I… your brother used to court Lady Grey, right?"

"Oh…" For some reason she feels sad and angry all at once. Why did he have to bring THAT up? "Yeah. For some years."

"Right, right." He swallows, looks away, and passes a hand through his hair again. "Did he ever… say anything about her? Like what kind of person she is or anything?"

"Well…" Whisper tries to sound detached. "She's very beautiful."

"Well yes, but besides THAT. What her character is like, if she's a good person, what sort of things she does. Like… I don't know, anything strange she might have done? You know, in the past?"

In the past? Her brother never mentioned anything about Lady Grey's history. Come to think of it, her brother had never said much about Lady Grey's character at all. Just that she was very beautiful. Occasionally he had mentioned that she was a woman of "fiery spirit" and "firm determination." But definitely never anything about what she had done in the past.

She shakes her head. "Not that I can recall. Why?"

"It's just.. nah, never mind. Just some rumor I heard from a crazy guy somewhere." He stands up and tries to smile. "Don't worry about it. Listen, I've got to get going, okay?"

"Okay, Farmboy."

He grins at the use of the nickname, and makes for the door. From the window, Whisper sees him stride into the dark street towards the gate of Bowerstone North. The guard nods, opens the door, and Alan walks through, letting it close behind him.

And as usual, it isn't until he disappears that she realizes she still hasn't apologized.

* * *

**A/N**:Yeah, I've pretty much given up on the "Whisper Title Motif" This chapter almost didn't get posted and I feel rather proud of myself for finishing it on time. I know not much happens, but it's a nice segway into what will come after.

Speaking of which... **REVIEW**! Reviews doth help the weary soul to rest! They lift him up on wings like eagles and doth bring him to new heights of fantasy! And in any case, you might as well, seeing as how you went through the trouble of reading it and all. Otherwise it's just kinda pointless.


	14. Whispered Apologies

**Whispered Apologies**

* * *

She never did give him that apology, she thinks as she spends her last night in Albion.

She's in some backwater town—Oatsvale or Oakville or something like that—and she's just arranged passage on a ship that's leaving in a few hours. So for the moment, she's killing time in the local bar, which is woefully undersupplied. The stupid woodsmen that seem to fill the bar keep offering her drinks, but she turns them down. After all, she's not depressed, or desperate. Just killing time until she leaves for good.

Just like in Bowerstone. Looking back, she can see that's all she was doing in Bowerstone after the Arena. Killing time while she figured out what to do. All her reasons to stay in Albion had ended after the Arena.

Well… okay, she never really DID have a reason to stay in Albion. She just pretended she did. The Arena simply helped her to realize that. It showed her that she had no place with her brother, with the Guild, or with anything she'd been working toward. It showed her that she had no home in Albion. For several months she's been wandering about Albion wondering what to do with that, and finally she's found an answer. If her home isn't in Albion, she'll just have to find it somewhere else.

Samarkand. It's nothing more than a name to her, a word her brother has tossed out every so often when she'd asked about her parents. It's the land both he and she hail from. The land of her parents. Her homeland. She's never even seen it before, but surely, if her home lies anywhere in this world, it must lie within Samarkand.

It took a while to find a boat going to the little-known jungle kingdom, but at last she's found a trader who's willing to take her on board. It's simply bad luck that the trader operates out of some obscure backwater place like this Woodsvale. Still. What does it matter? She's not comfortable anywhere in Albion, why worry about one place more than another? Besides, she'll only be here for another half-hour.

Whisper signals the barmaid and takes another mug of beer. On the one hand it's a pity that she never got to apologize to Alan, but on the other it's probably for the best also. The gossip itself had been irritating enough, but Thunder had become enraged at the recent rumors regarding his searching for a necklace. And the day before she'd left Bowerstone, Whisper had heard the news. Her brother had challenged Alan to a duel.

Not that that particularly affected her decision to leave. She'd already decided she couldn't stay in Albion any longer. But simply knowing about the upcoming combat makes Whisper glad that she'll never have to face Alan again. She doesn't know if she could.

"Whisper?"

At the sound of the voice, Whisper swings around to face the last person in the world she expected to meet. "Alan?" She sighs in relief. "Oh,thank Avo. I was hoping for a chance to talk to you."

***

Apparently Alan hasn't even heard about her leaving the Guild, and he just stands there in dumbfounded silence as she explains all what she's been doing and what she's doing now. For some reason it annoys her that he knows so little.

"My brother always wanted me to be a great hero." She laughs, looking down a bit. "But you were always ahead of me. Things seemed to be so easy for you."

"I didn't… I mean…" Alan shifts uneasily and looks down.

"It's alright." It's almost funny, really, how he's acting about this. "It wasn't until you beat me in the Arena that I realized how far ahead you were." He looks so miserable at this last bit that she can't help smiling as she adds, "And how good a friend you've been."

He looks up, startled. Slowly a smile starts to form on his face.

Whisper wonders why that makes such a difference to him. They've always been friends, she just never realized it. But maybe that's why he's surprised. He probably never expected her to say something like that. The thought brings out such remorse in Whisper that she says, in a rush of feeling. "I'm sorry for being so hard on you for all those years during training."

There. She's said it at last, the thing she's been trying to say for the past three months. But somehow, it doesn't seem like enough to make up for all she's put him through. There seems to be more to say, but what? What more is there to say between two friends who've known each other for forever? She can only say what they both know already.

"You're a far better hero than I ever was. Just don't tell my brother I said that."

She adds the last bit in a sudden wave of embarrassment. Why she's embarrassed, she can't say, but she just knows she can't stay to talk any longer. So even though she feels something tugging at her, telling her that she hasn't said all that needs to be said, she walks away toward the docks. She almost runs. And strangely, she feels almost disappointed that he doesn't follow her.

* * *

**A/N**: This was NOT an easy scene. It had to go in, very clearly, and I wanted it to go in because it completely fits with Whisper's character right now, and there are some ideas and feelings that get sorted out here. But somehow, I couldn't get the words to work right, and I couldn't quite convey all the ideas I wanted. So I finally just ran out of time and did this.

Does anybody have ideas on how to improve it? I'd love some constructive reviews that might offer some help. Shoot, I'd love reviews even if they didn't, but the point stands.

Ah well. Next time we get to see Whisper in Samarkand


	15. Call of the Wild

**Call of the Wild**

Samarkand is… different. That's the only word Whisper can think of to describe it. It's hot, steamy, and full of all sorts of animals that she hasn't seen before. The wilderness is wild and savage, and the towns (such as they have) are poorly-governed loose collections of households who fight each other as often as they fight their neighbors. The very people in the land seem alien to Whisper. They look like her, sure, but the resemblance ends there. Most of them are rude, uncouth beings who look at her sideways and mutter dark prophecies. Not only that, but the customs shock her—it takes her three weeks to convince the village elders that she is NOT, a wife waiting to be given to one of their warriors. And that is after the two days it takes her to get used to the elders being half-naked. (That, actually, she's beginning to understand. Samarkand is REALLY hot.)

The people don't seem to know what to make of her, either. When she first arrived they pointed at her clothing and weapons, whispering and laughing as they tried to decide what they were for. Whisper found this amusing at first, but recently she's beginning to find it annoying. And though the elders seem to be momentarily convinced of her desired single status, they still seem to view her as some troublesome upstart who will come to no good.

Yes, Samarkand is definitely different than she expected. In fact, she's not sure of anything about it except for one thing.

It's not Albion.

But that's a good thing. After all, it's to get away from Albion that she came here, and she has to admit that this land is probably as far away from it as you can get. The only thing in Samarkand that remotely resembles Albion is her, and even that cannot last. The traditions and customs seem strange now because of her life in Albion, but as time passes, she will surely come to love and appreciate the ways of her homeland.

So she tells herself. And so, for quite a few months, Whisper makes her home among the people of the Wasabi tribe. (She's not sure what village her parents came from, but someone she showed the amulet to directed her there.) She erects a hut close by the river, plants a little garden, and starts weaving a net to catch fish with. Some of the women in the village teach her how to weave, and after a while she begins making hangings for the hut. Eventually, she abandons her old armor and dresses in the manner of her people. She still refuses a husband, relying on her own hunting and fishing abilities, but aside from that she attempts to make herself at home.

To some extent she does. But there are still a lot of things that she can't get past. The village itself is dirty, and the medicine they practice is terrible. She can't help grimacing every time she walks past the shrunken heads outside the chief's hut. The villagers are always fighting wars, it seems, and yet she's never allowed to fight. And the loincloths are still disgusting.

But what really bothers her is that there's no one to talk to. Oh, well there is—the housewives are friendly and polite, and several of the young warriors take every chance they can get to talk to her—but none of them actually talk in any way that she can relate to. There's no one she can talk to about schools, bars, or books . There's not even anyone who can tell her what is going on in the land of Samarkand itself. The circle of these people is very limited, they can barely tell her anything that happens outside their own village.

In frustration, Whisper takes to wandering. She still lives among the Wasabi and wears their clothing, but now she often is away, stopping to stay in the village only every month or so. At all other times, she journeys from village to village, trading goods and stories with the inhabitants. A few try to stop her from entering, and some of the Wasabi's enemies attack her, but Whisper still has her spear and the skill to use it. Soon, all lands lie open to her, and she comes and goes as she pleases.

Constantly, as she passes through, Whisper is irritated by the horrible living conditions. Finally one day, as she observes a child picking at an obviously infected wound, she decides she can stand it no longer.

"Here." She says, walking towards the startled child. "Try this." She hands him a health potion.

Apparently children here are not taught to refuse candy from strangers, and the little boy eagerly grabs the small red bottle. He gulps it down and then stares in wonder at the suddenly healing wound.

"Mama!" He shrieks, running into the dirty hut. "There's an angel outside!"

Whisper meant the gesture to be a one-time thing, but as she continues on her way, she finds herself reaching for her potions more and more often. Fortunately she has a great many—she bought quite a number before leaving Albion—but every so often she gives the child a glass of water and simply heals the wound with her Will. (She's careful about that, though. The last time she openly used Will, it took her five weeks to get the locals to stop worshipping her.)

The news spreads like wildfire, and before long villagers are flocking to her for the miraculous potions. At first, she's not sure how to deal with the sudden demand, but then luckily she remembers the trader who brought her in. She buys all his health potions, and makes a deal with him to bring more next time he comes into port.

With a strange sense of amusement—or pride—Whisper realizes that she's becoming something of a traveling healer. Everywhere she goes, people come flocking with their sick and wounded. Others bring gifts or offerings. Far and wide she becomes known as "_Wamaka_ (Wandering Angel)."

At first, Whisper thinks it's simply cute. But then, something happens to show her how serious it really is.

It's on one of her longer "wanderings." She's treading through a part of the jungle that she's never been in before, over the mountains of Sumpertabot. Few have been there before, as it's a hazardous journey across the mountains, but Whisper is curious. However, even crossing the mountains, Whisper sees nothing for days. Finally, on the fourth day, just when she's thinking of setting up camp, she sees a plume of smoke on the horizon—a sure sign of a village.

When she gets there, she realizes the plume of smoke WAS the village.

She never does find out who destroyed the village (some rival tribe, she guesses). All she can tell is that they left it completely obliterated The huts are burned, the crops rooted up, the people themselves sliced up and left rotting in the streets. Everything is gone.

Well… not quite everything. For as she stands there, shocked, a pair of eyes blink at her from the trees. Then more eyes. A few whispers break the air, and slowly, a crowd of children emerges from the jungle.

"Are you the _Wamaka_?" They whisper.

They're the last survivors of the village. A mere handful, perhaps—simply a scattering of children who happened to be out playing when the attack came—but still survivors. And, Whisper realizes, helpless by themselves. She agrees to accompany them to the nearest village.

Unfortunately, that village has met a similar fate. As has the next. And the next. After about five villages, Whisper is left with nothing except more starving survivors. There are many of them now, mostly children, although there are a few women mixed in as well. They all need food, and protection, but getting help from the other villages looks less and less likely.

There is only one thing to do, and that is bring them all back across the mountains.

It's a dangerous plan. The passage is hazardous, even for full-grown men. Taking children, and a whole lot of children, is incredibly difficult, indeed well-nigh impossible. But it's the only way, and Whisper decides to take it.

So back through the jungle they go, towards the mountain pass. She gets many of the children to help out in basic foraging and hunting, trying to get up some kind of supply reserve for the crossing. Clothes are another problem, Whisper goes out several times to find some animals with thick shaggy coats. They pack up wood and make some weapons to defend themselves with. For all they do, however, Whisper can't help feeling that it's not enough.

It's the night before they're to go over the mountains. Everyone is asleep, on Whisper's express orders that they get a good rest.

Unsurprisingly, Whisper is the only one unable to follow her own advice. She's wandered around the camp three times, checking on the food supply, the clothes, the tents, the weapon supply, and the wood store. Now she's sitting by a campfire on the edge, staring at the mountains and trying to think what else she can do.

Suddenly she notices there's a child with her by the fire.

"You should go back to bed." She tells the little girl gently. "You need to rest."

"Not sleepy." The girl replies defiantly. "I wanna stay up."

Whisper smiles and shrugs. Who's she to talk, anyway? The two of them sit by the fire for a moment, staring at the mountains. Finally the girl speaks again. "Are we going to climb _those_?"

"Yes." She replies.

"They're tall."

"Yes."

"Have you ever been on the other side, _Wamaka_?"

"Yes."

"Is that where you come from?"

"Not… really." The answer comes out before Whisper can think about it, and the next minute she wonders why. Of course she came from the other side.

"Did you come from Manatabra?"

"No." Whisper chuckles at the mention of the tribal heaven. "No, I came from over the mountains. Far over them, actually. You see, on the other side of the mountains there is a great forest, and on the other side of the forest is a great ocean, and on the other side of the ocean is a great country. And that is where I come from."

"Wow." The girl digests this a moment. "Is it… really different where you come from?"

"Oh yes." Whisper responds, lost in thought. "Very different."

"Did you like it there?"

"Yes." She nods. "Yes I did."

"Are we going all the way there?"

"No, no, little one." She giggles a little, ruffling the little girl's black curly hair. "That's far too long and dangerous for us to go."

"No it isn't!" The girl smiles up at her. "We could get through the jungles and the ocean just fine! It wouldn't be dangerous for us at all!"

"Let us focus on the mountains first." Whisper gently reminds her, still smiling at the little girl's bravado. "Then we will speak of the forest and the ocean."

"Oh yes." There is a small pause before the girl looks at her again, eyes wide and serious. "_Wamaka_… are the mountains dangerous?"

"Yes."

"And cold?"

"Yes."

"Will we get hungry?"

"Yes."

"Sick?"

"Yes."

"Will we die?"

Despite what she knows, Whisper can't bring herself to answer this last question. "Of course not, little one." She smiles at the girl. "Are you afraid?"

"No." The girl flashes her white teeth in a grin. "No, I am not afraid. None of us are. Not so long as you are with us, Wamaka."

Whisper stares at the girl for a long moment. "Go to bed, little one." She says finally. "Tomorrow will be a hard day."

* * *

She's right. Tomorrow is a hard day. And so is the day after that. And the day after that. By some miracle they seem to have chosen the warmest time of year to travel in, but the journey is still tortuous, filled with cutting winds and freezing snows. Each day, Whisper pushes the children to go as far as they can. Some of the small ones she carries on her back. Some of the smaller ones are carried by the women with her. The smallest are carried by the largest children. They push on, on hands and feet at times, climbing over rock and ice. At night, they sleep all huddled together to avoid frostbite.

Whisper works herself to the bone, hunting for food and clothes, staying up late to let the others sleep, constantly checking to see if the path ahead is clear, constantly having to make it clear for the children—HER children—to get through. She keeps an exact record of each child in her care, making sure they are all there every morning and night, going around to check each for fevers or colds. She deals out her precious potions with deadly care—there can be no waste. More and more often she calls upon her Will to start fires or heal wounds. The children, hallucinating already from exhaustion and hypothermia, do not notice, but the process drains her of strength.

It is like one long, dark, cold nightmare. But for Whisper, the end comes just as they are starting to go down again. She is in the back, a husky four-year-old clinging to her back as she helps the stray children down a tricky portion. Suddenly a call comes from the front. "_Wamaka_! _Wamaka_! A monster!"

Usually, Whisper would have run at the call. But now, she must stop and take the child off her back. Now, she must call to one of the children to help one of the others. Now, too, even as she runs, half-asleep, half-dead, to the front, she must still take care to call to all her children to move away from the front, so she can meet whatever this new danger is.

A troll. Whisper never thought to meet a troll, here, in Samarkand. She especially did not expect to find a snow troll, one of the most dangerous kinds, here in the warmest kingdom on Gaia. And certainly, she never thought to meet one in this mountain pass while two hundred children and four old women cower behind her.

But even if she had, Whisper could never have anticipated the absolute surge of adrenaline those two-hundred-and-four innocents generate in her.

The world around the troll turns into a red haze. She cannot think of how weary she is, how long it has been since she has fought, how little Will she has left to use, or how weak her spear must be after so long. She can only think of the people behind her and the audacity of this monster to attack her—HER—children!

Fireballs have never leapt so readily from her fingers. Never has she dodged and leapt with such ferocity, struck with such strength. Pieces fly from the troll in chunks as the bewildered monster tries to keep up with her, vainly slashing at thin air. Whisper flies over his head in a beautiful arching leap and summons reserves of Will she didn't even know she had to unleash Infernal Fury.

The monster roars, caught in billowing pillars of flame. The light of the fire reflects against two-hundred-and-four amazed faces. From far away, hunters jabber, pointing at the sudden glow from the mountains, wondering what it means.

And Whisper faints.

When she awakens, the children are all around her. The women point at the empty red bottle they found in her pouch and poured down her throat. A dead snow troll lies on the ground next to her, its sapphire heart glowing through its melting skin.

From then on, the rest of the journey is a haze. They stumble the rest of the way down the mountain, rest a while at the foot, and then wearily, triumphantly, stagger into the Wasabi village. Whisper stays on her feet just long enough to explain to the chief and secure his permission (the poor man understands only half of what she tells him.), and then she collapses onto a rock.

The villagers are clustering around the children, giving them food and drink, jabbering, asking questions, pointing at scars and burns. Whisper cannot be sure what will be done with these children, far too many for any one village to support, and too foreign for any tribe to adopt. But as she sees them here, resting from their long journey, safe at last, preparing to settle into whatever new home awaits them, she cannot resist a smile.

One of the women is speaking with the witchdoctor. She points at Whisper. The other women join in. The witchdoctor jumps back and runs to the chief to whisper something in his ear. The chief leaps to his feet and makes some exclamation that Whisper cannot catch…

And suddenly the whole village is bowing down. To her.

It is useless for Whisper to plead with them, scold them, even threaten them, they remain kneeling until the witchdoctor springs up and begins some kind of chant. Nor can she stop them as the men join the chant, the women trill wildly, and they dance in a circle around her. The only thing she can do is sit back while they parade offerings before her. Sit back and hope this mood will not last.

And as they dance in their disgusting loincloths around the fire, as the witchdoctor dons his horrific mask and shakes his skull-laden rod, as once again they present a proud young warrior as an "offering" to her, Whisper realizes something. She has not found her home in Samarkand.

But as she watches a little girl run giggling into her new home, she realizes something else. She has found herself.

* * *

**A/N:** Wow. I'm pretty sure this is the longest chapter I've written for this series yet. I apologize for making you read so much, but seeing as how it's too late NOW, you might as well leave me a nice big review to match the nice big chapter.

Or a medium-sized review would work too.

Aw, shoot, ANY size review will make me happy. Just post a few words, it can't take much longer than you've spent on this story already, right?

Anyway. I didn't really want to spend more time in Samarkand than I had to, because it's REALLY far from the Fable world, and fan-worlds have a tendency to get a little... strange. Besides, I didn't have many ideas for what I wanted Whisper to do there. But for all that, she's supposed to spend a long time there--nearly a year-- so I had a lot to get through. Some people have been begging me for Whisper to do something great and surpassingly heroic in her travels. I'm not sure whether this is what you had in mind, nor am I sure that this is all she's going to do, but it's a start. I kinda wanted her to be a... different sort of hero in this section.

Anyway. It's done now though.


	16. Whispered Reminders

**Whispering Reminders**

* * *

"So you're the famous _Wamaka_." Briar Rose wipes beer froth from her lips and stares at Whisper. "By Avo, I never would have expected to meet you here."

Whisper knows the feeling. She would never have expected to run across the Guild's resident rune-scholar in the port of Samarkand, third-poorest nation in the known world. There's precious little in this land to interest a bookish person like Briar, who's mostly interested in the arcane arts. And it's a long trip to make for just no reason. Especially since everyone knows Briar hates boats or any kind of transportation outside of teleporting.

And even if it were likely that Briar would come to Samarkand, it is in no way likely that Whisper should run into her. Samarkand is a big place, after all, and Whisper has resumed her wandering life, so she's not easy to find. Actually, it's a wonder Whisper is still IN Samarkand. She's very sure now that she has no home there. For the months since her rescue of the children, she's been trying to figure out where she should go now. The only reason she's still there is because she doesn't know. If Briar had come a few months later, Whisper might not have been there.

But if she thinks about it, it's not such a surprise, since Whisper comes in to great every ship. And if the two of them were to meet, she supposes they WOULD have to meet in the town's only bar.

"Are you sure it's only been a year?" She asks Briar Rose.

"Year and a half, maybe." Briar shrugs. "Hard to say, you weren't around much even before you left the Guild, so it's hard to nail it down exactly. But I think that's roughly it."

"It seems just like yesterday." Whisper shakes her head. "You actually came here looking for me?"

"For _Wamaka_, to be precise. We didn't know she was you, we just figured she was some powerfully charismatic figure who was leading all the Samarkand tribes. Either that or some greatly powerful warrior. We figured we could either recruit the person or help her out." Briar leans back to glance out the window. "It sorta fits, the Guild's been thinking to do something about all the raiders over here anyway. Too many pirates."

"But you heard about me? All the way back in Albion?"

"Yup." The dark-haired girl smiles at her. "Sailors tell all sorts of stories about you. Mostly exaggerated, mind you… Things about snow dragons and twenty-foot-tall elephants and whole wars stopped on account of your stunning beauty." She laughs at the sudden blush on Whisper's face. "Oh, relax. People exaggerate. It's what they do. "

"And you came all this way on a few sailor tales?"

Briar shrugs again. "It was Mazes' idea. But to be honest, there's not much else to do around the Guild these days. The Hobbes have gone back underground, the Bandits are curiously quiet, and even the Balverines have stopped giving us much trouble. It's almost weird, like they're all gearing up for something. Every so often Jack of Blades pops up, but it's not like we can do anything against him anyway." With a little huff of frustration, Briar folds her arms across her chest and stares out at the ocean. "We haven't had anything exciting since that whole business with Lady Grey and Pilgrim."

Lady Grey. Pilgrim. It's been years (well, a year and a half by Briar's count) since she's heard those names, but the minute she hears them everything comes flooding back. "That's… that's all settled now, is it?"

"Settled as it'll ever be." Briar eyes the horizon gloomily.

"That's good." Whisper nods, also looking out at the horizon. "That's… good. I'm glad to hear that. I hope they're happy."

Surprisingly, Briar chuckles. "Well, I can't speak for Pilgrim, but I'm willing to bet Lady Grey isn't happy. At least that's not the impression I got."

"Hm?" Whisper turns to look at her, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, c'mon." A surprised, somewhat amused look decorates Briar's face. "Just from what happened. I mean, you remember…" She breaks off suddenly. "Oh, that's right, you don't! That happened all after you left!"

"What happened?" Information is flying faster than Whisper can catch on to it. "What are you talking about?"

"Okay." Briar's eyes are alit with the love of gossip that animates women worldwide. "You probably remember how, after the Arena, Lady Grey invited Pilgrim to her mansion and was all 'mushy-mushy lubby-dubby' with him, right? Well, he started courting her and we pretty much all figured it was a done deal. He bought her flowers, got a house, went to get her some jewelry, fought a duel with some guy—you know, all the things that guys are supposed to do for girls. And then…"

"A duel?" Whisper interrupts. "Who did he fight a duel with?"

"Hm? What guy? Oh, I don't quite remember." Briar frowns a moment. "Thunder. Yeah, that's right, Thunder. Do you remember him? Big guy…" Again she breaks off suddenly and there's a look of amazed clarity on her face. "Oh RIGHT! He's your brother! Wow, wonder what he's going to say when I tell him his little sister is a world-famous celebrity."

"Briar…" Whisper wonders how this scatter-brained woman ever got to be a scholar.

"Right, right. Well, anyway, don't worry about it, they fought it out and ended as good friends, parted ways and all that. So we were all set for the bells to ring and started to get our wedding presents in order, and the next thing you know, Lady Grey's disappeared!"

"What?"

"Haha, yeah, exactly what we thought!" Briar grins. "But see, here's the thing. Apparently, while he'd been digging up some jewelry for her, Pilgrim'd found out some strange stuff about Lady Grey. So after the duel, he went nosing around by the house where her family used to live, and guess what? Turns out she murdered her sister, back in the day."

Whisper's eyes are large and horrified. She had been never really liked Lady Grey, but even she would never have guessed she was capable of such things. "She… she what?"

"Exactly! Like I said, nobody would've guessed! Of course, half of Bowerstone right now is saying they knew about the whole thing all along, but that's gossips for you. Anyway, Pilgrim came back with Lady Grey's diary, a letter from her sister… all sorts of things. And they did an inquest into the whole matter and it came out. Not that it did much good, Lady Grey was long gone before Pilgrim set foot in the town. She found out about it somehow. But they've found all sorts of things that've been going on."

"So who's in charge of Bowerstone now?" Whisper's mind is whirling.

"No one, really." Briar frowns. "I heard they offered it to Pilgrim, but he turned it down. And since then, they've just been passing around names. No one really wants to step up to the plate."

"Wow." Whisper stares at the empty remnants of her mug. "So… Is Alan—I mean Pilgrim—taking this okay? I mean, if he did all that for her… he must've loved her."

"Bah, men do that sorta stuff all the time. Doesn't mean they love anyone, just that they want to get on their good side." Briar responded, waving the objection away. "He seemed a little… distant, I guess, but nothing more than what he was before. Actually, on the mission I had with him right after the whole mess, he seemed pretty happy. Relieved, you might say. And that's not something easy to be when you're keeping waves of Minions off my back." She chuckles. "Fascinating discovery, by the way. They were trying to summon this bizarre creature from…"

Hoping to stop her before she launches into another story, Whisper asks quickly, "But Pilgrim's doing alright otherwise?"

Pausing, Briar throws her an odd glance. "Well see… that's kinda funny."

"What is?"

"Well… we don't really know."

"What do you mean you don't KNOW?" Whisper surprises herself with her own irritation. "He's one of the most famous heroes in the Guild, how can you not know? And who's _we_?"

"The whole Guild, pretty much. Most of Albion too, for all I know." Briar sighs, looking worried for the first time in her whole speech. "We don't know how he's doing, or what he's done, or where he's been. He's disappeared."

"What?" Startled, Whisper stands to her feet, nearly knocking over the table. "When?"

Briar shakes her head. "About a year ago. He ran off to the Lychfield graveyards, we know that much. But we've been through that area with a fine tooth comb, there's no sign of him."

"But can't… I don't know… Can't the Guildmaster find him through the seal?"

"That's just it, he can't. He says the seal isn't responding to him anymore, he can't talk to it or sense it. It just… isn't there. But those things are supposed to work the world over." Shrugging helplessly, Briar concludes. "Maze thinks it's been destroyed."

"Destroyed? But then…"

"He might've done it himself. Scythe is said to have done something like that before he disappeared. But even he TOLD Maze he was leaving. And destroying a seal is incredibly dangerous. Those things have tons of energy inside them. But outside of destruction, it's hard to think of what else could have happened. The only thing I can think of is some kind of magic suppression area, but there aren't many of those around, and Pilgrim would have no reason to go to any of them."

"I suppose… he might have simply lost it."

"No." Briar shook her head. "Even if he just lost it, the Guildmaster would still be able to find the seal itself. Same thing for if it gets stolen. No." She sighs. "We just don't know, and that's that. Maze…" She hesitates. "Maze thinks he might be dead."

"What?" Whisper lunges forward. "Why? How? Who would even be able to do that?"

"I told you. We don't know. It's just a guess on Maze's part and even that…" She rolls her eyes. "Maze's been acting strange lately himself. Been away from the Guild for months at a time. Guildmaster says he's grieving."

"Grieving?" It seems odd to think of the stoic Guild head doing anything of the sort. But then, Alan had been—was—something of an apprentice to Maze. Perhaps even that was possible.

"I dunno." Briar shakes her head. "You get the idea, though. What with Alan being gone and Maze being absent, and virtually nothing happening in Albion except for Jack raiding around the place, things have been… really weird." She sighs. "So. I came out here, to see if I could find Wamaka."

"You sound disappointed." Whisper allows herself a little smile.

"I am, sorta. I expected it to take a lot longer. Spent more time getting here than I did finding you." Mournfully eying the empty mug before her, she adds. "Guess I could still build a Cullis Gate or do something about those raiders on the north coast. But I dunno. I'll probably just head on back home, see if some traders need escorting."

Whisper stands up as Briar does. "I'm sorry I was so easy to find."

"Don't mention it." Briar grins. "It's been good catching up with you. Most of the men in the Guild start talking about the same thing after five beers, and there aren't enough girls there to have a proper chat with." She looks at Whisper for a moment. "You should come back, sister. We need you back there."

"You were just complaining how boring it was."

"It is." Briar nods. "Because all the interesting people left."

The statement earns a few giggles from Whisper. "Sorry dear. That life is over for me. I'm a whole new person now."

"I know." Briar smiles.

They hug and part ways. But despite her words to Briar, Whisper sits in the bar for another hour after the scholar has left, thinking everything over. It's true what she said. She's a whole new person, the aspiring champion warrior from the Guild no longer exists. But at the same time, she can't ignore the memories that all the news has evoked. Maze, Guildmaster, Alan… People she hasn't thought about in months, come striding back into her mind in all their grandeur. That was another life, one that she left behind, but still it is one that evokes strong feelings in her.

And simply meeting Briar brings a lot of things to her attention also. How long has it been since she's been able to speak with anyone here about Quests and Cullis Gates? To speak with a fellow warrior on equal terms without being either worshipped or sneered at? For that matter, how long since she's been able to speak with ANYONE who doesn't view her as a goddess or a freak? Briar has given Whisper the first real conversation she's had in her whole time here, and it gives Whisper a strange feeling of nostalgia.

But the news itself is the part that most fully grips her mind. Alan missing. Maze acting strangely. Jack of Blades ravaging the land. She's not a part of Albion, she's left that life and yet… and yet… she can't stop thinking about these things. Can't stop wondering about what's going to happen to Albion. About what happened to Alan.

She sits in the bar for an hour, thinking of these things, and after she leaves, she wanders the streets of the town for another hour, still thinking of them. And at the end of that, she walks up to the harbor and secures passage on the first boat returning to Albion.

It's just for a visit, she tells herself. After all, she was planning to leave Samarkand anyway. She just wants to catch up on things and get some new bearings before leaving again. She may stick around for a little while, but only because she feels something strange is happening over there, that they just might need her help for.

And if she tries to find Alan while she's over there, that's only because she's curious.

* * *

**A/N:** Review! REview unto others as you would have others review onto you! Well, maybe not exactly, because I love to hear what's wrong with my stories and that's not what most people like. But please, leave a review!

Those of you who've played the game know this is off. Whisper never returns to Albion, at least not that you find out about. But I didn't really want to leave her in Samarkand, especially because I have all sorts of things planned for Albion. We're going to go a little AU.

The dialogue with Briar Rose was difficult. I'm not an expert on female dialogue in general, and especially not on Briar. But I think it works. Interesting note: have you noticed that EVERYWHERE, when girls meet, or leave, or see each other, they give spontaneous hugs? Not that it's wierd, it's just something I've noticed because I'm a guy and we don't... really... do... that sort of thing. So I had to put in there that they hugged before leaving. It's maybe a little TOO girlly for them, but whatever.


	17. Whispered Hints

**Whispered Hints**

* * *

For the first week or so, Whisper is busy settling back in. Her friends are glad to see her back, and the Guildmaster is only too happy to grant her a new Guild Seal. As it happens, they're in the middle of a "busy" season when she arrives, so she even gets to go out on a prisoner escort mission. It's a pleasant thrill to be in the middle of a battle again, and the money isn't bad either.

After that, though, it becomes pretty evident that Briar was painfully accurate. Things are boring around the Guild, hardly any quests come in anymore. And those that do, Whisper feel no interest in.

That's just fine, though. Whisper has a quest of her own. She needs to find Alan.

Just as a favor, of course. Alan is an old friend of hers, and he's saved her life a number of times. It's only fair that she find out whatever's happened to him. And, anyway, there's nothing better to do around the Guild.

At first, Whisper tries to pump the Guildmaster for information. But this proves frustratingly useless. He can only tell her the same thing he's told everyone else. He can't find the seal. The last place it was, he knows, is Lychfield Graveyard, but after that it simply vanished. He's not sure why Alan went to Lychfield. Apparently he had gone there straight from some mission to Bowerstone.

The guards at Bowerstone are a little more informative. Alan (or as they say, Pilgrim) had come rushing in shortly after some minions had captured a notary hiding out in the prison. He had led the charge to rescue the prisoner.

"Funny thing wuz…" the one guard reminisces, stroking his chin, "dat 'e didn't even seem puzzled by it. It wuz like he come straight there on purpose to talk to dis here fella."

"Hear, hear." The other nodded. "That 'e was, I reckon. I never seen a hero so set on somethin' like that. All we could do to keep up with the blighter, it was. And then when we finally caught up wid 'im, he stopped and talked to 'im for the longest time."

"About what?" Whisper asks, excited. This could be important.

"Oh… I don't remember that." All the guards shake their heads gloomily.

So much for that. "Who was this man, anyway?"

"The Archaeologist hisself." The first states proudly. "Came to us for protection, he did."

Whisper resists the urge to point out that apparently he should have chosen someone better, instead thanking them for their help and quickly moving on.

The Archaeologist then. If he was the one who sent Alan to wherever he is now, then it's no wonder the Guild can't find him. No one is better at hiding than the Archaeologist. It's an unfortunate fact, Whisper notes gloomily, or else she might simply find the man and ask him what he told Alan. But no one in the Guild has any idea where the man has gone to.

She wracks her brain for places Alan might be interested in that the Archaeologist might know about. None come to mind. It's something of a shock, but she realizes that she knows very little about Alan's passions. Outside of the whole thing with his family, he's never really seemed to care about much.

His family…

It's not easy to find bandits, much less a bandit seeress. Especially a bandit seeress who knows exactly what you're going to do and doesn't want you to do it. The bandits have been completely scattered since Twinblade's death, so it's not as if she even knows which bandits 'Theresa' might be among. But Whisper catches a lucky break. While 'questioning' a group of bandits hidden in Greatwood, one confesses to "having heard a rumor… about some kind of witch with the bandits in Darkwood." They keep low to the ground, it seems, attracting as little attention as possible, but when they strike, it's with deadly efficiency. None of the other bandit clans dare challenge them.

Darkwood is still an awfully big place. But on a hunch, Whisper decides to check out an old haunt. She broke up the Assassin's Guild years ago, of course, but the cave is still there, handy to whoever wants to use it. And they DID have close ties with Twinblade.

She's never sure if it's because she's right or simply because Theresa finally decides to meet her, but when she gets there, a lone bandit is standing at the opening.

"This way, miss." Is all he says.

Theresa is a lot… different than what Whisper expected. Granted, she's not sure WHAT she expected, but it definitely wasn't a blind emotionless killer. There's a strange chill in every word Theresa utters, but what's truly frightening is her ability to pinpoint exactly what you're going to say.

"You're here about Alan." She says, bandaged eyes staring off into space.

"Yes." There's not much else to say.

"You're wondering where he is."

"Yes."

"You want me to help you."

"Yes." Whisper considers momentarily that that, at least, is obvious simply by her presence there.

"Simple deduction, yes. I don't have to use my abilities for everything." Theresa speaks sharply. Whisper barely has time to gasp before the seeress continues. "I can tell you where Alan is. But there's nothing you can do to help him now. Only he can help himself."

Whisper's not sure if she understands, but she picks up on one thing. "So he's not dead?"

"Of course not." Theresa sniffs. "He has not yet made his choice. But he is in pain. Terrible pain, and great danger."

Something about the placid way she says it galls Whisper. "And you're not bothered by that?"

"Of course I am." Theresa's bandages stare somewhere past Whisper's shoulder. "But I told you. Only Alan can help himself now. I too am in great danger."

"I'm not." Whisper glares at the bandages.

There's a slight pause. "Before I tell you anything further, I must know… Why are you tracking my brother?"

Whisper blinks. "You mean you don't know?"

"I'm a seeress, not a goddess." There's faint annoyance in her voice. "I'm not all-knowing, and definitely not all-seeing. Why are you tracking him? My brother has many enemies, after all."

"Because he's a friend!" Whisper snaps, almost reflexively. "A friend to everyone in the Guild! Everyone's been looking for Alan, you have to know that!"

"True… but none have thought to come to me. Save Maze, and he I did not allow to find me."

Whisper blinks. Maze tried to find Theresa? And failed?

"The fact that you have come so far intrigues me. That is why I decided to meet with you." Theresa leans forward, as if to see better. "How did you even know of me? And why did you seek me out?"

The question confuses Whisper. "I… I knew of you because Alan told me." She stammers. "We grew up together in the Guild, and he told me about his family and the Oakvale massacre. And then, after the Arena, he said you were still alive. I was there when you sent your man to contact him."

"Aaah." Theresa leans back. "So you were the other figure in the arena I saw. But you did not die. Interesting. So, why are you seeking him? You still have not answered that."

Theresa's words are horribly puzzling. How could she have seen the Arena? And if she did, how did she not know Whisper was the one? And if she DOES know all that… why is she asking? "Your brother spared my life in the Arena." She answers. "It is the least I can do."

Complete silence greets that remark. Theresa's eyeless stare burns into Whisper until she begins to wonder if the seeress heard her. She has a strange feeling of being examined for something.

Finally Theresa's mouth opens. "This is… interesting. You are not supposed to be here. But you are, and in consequence… Yes…" A smile flits across her face, so sudden and unexpected that it almost frightens Whisper. "Yes, this is very interesting. Very well." She stands to her feet. "I will take you to where my brother is."

"You?" Whisper blinks. "But you said…"

"Yes, I know." Theresa nods. "But it appears I was mistaken. Perhaps we may yet be of help, and in any case, it can't hurt to try. Come." She reaches out with her hand. "To Lychfield."

Whisper's Guild Seal takes them there immediately, and to her surprise, Theresa opens the nearby Demon door. Instantly she berates herself—why hadn't they thought of that?—and follows the girl inside.

The path is a living nightmare, undead rising from the ground at every step. She and Theresa run through as fast as humanly possible, but even so there's plenty of fighting to be done. Fortunately, Theresa seems to be able to hold her own pretty well, and Whisper's learned plenty of tricks since the last time she fought these.

The last time… was in the arena. With Alan.

It's a good thing she's gotten better, though, as there are plenty more of them, and though Theresa is plenty adept, she doesn't seem to be used to Undead. Whisper has to jump to her friend's assistance more than once.

"Through these doors." Theresa says calmly, pointing at the gigantic stone slabs before them. "The ones with the glowing eyes."

Whisper resists the urge to ask what OTHER doors she could be talking about.

"I can't see any doors that aren't there, Hero." Theresa snaps. "I can only see the one we have to go through. There could be twenty doors here and I would only be able to see one."

Right. Theresa can't see. She can only read minds. Whisper forgets that sometimes.

They go through the doors into the courtyard beyond. Whisper gasps at the eerie floating ghost-skulls floating above the circle, but Theresa pays them no mind, either because she can't see them, or because she doesn't think them important. "This way." She says, calmly striding toward a ruined crypt at the far end. "My brother has already cleared the way for us."

"The way to what?" Whisper asks, a little on edge from the skulls. "Seems like we should be there already. Where on earth are we even going?"

Without sparing her a glance, Theresa picks her way down the stair. "To Bargate Prison, naturally."

"Bargate Prison?" Whisper hurries after her, through the door into the tunnel beyond. "What on earth is he doing there?"

Instead of answering, Theresa stops suddenly, as if listening. Whisper can't see why, they're in a large open chamber with nothing but a large pit in the middle. There can't possibly be anyone in here. But Theresa just stands there, and slowly her hand goes down to her sword.

"Theresa?"

"Whisper, you may want to get your spear out."

Puzzled, Whisper is about to ask why, but then suddenly she hears something. Some new voices.

"Come on! It's not far now, but we must hurry."

"I know, I know! I came this way, mom, I think I'd know when we were out! We'll be there in no time, it's just ahead."

That's Alan's voice!

Wait a minute. _ Mom_?

Before Whisper can give it much thought, however, two figures come into sight at the opposite end of the chamber. One is a thin, wasted-looking woman, with horrid scars crossing her face and a bloodied sword clutched in her hand. The other…

"Alan!" Whisper shouts, running toward them. "Alan!"

He whips around to face her, and Whisper stops short. Alan's face is etched with pain, and his hair is unkempt and wild. His armor has been hastily buckled on, and through the cracks she can see the wounds of torture. But it's his eyes that make her stop. His eyes have a strange ferocity and desperation that terrify her.

It's only for a moment, though. "Whisper?" The face shifts to confusion. "Is that… is… what in Avo's name are…"

"Alan, do you know these people?" Says the old lady, staring at Whisper with even greater confusion. "What are they doing here?"

"There is no time for that." Theresa states, walking forward. "Brother, get out your sword."

"Theresa? What the…"

Alan's question is left unfinished as red barriers appear over the doors. The pool in the middle begins to bubble and froth, and with a great roar, tentacles come shooting out of the water towards them.

"Aw, arse." Whisper hears Alan curse.

* * *

**A/N: **"Arse" is a pathetic swearword.

Yeah, this is pretty massively AU here. Whisper never returns, she never contacts Theresa, and she CERTAINLY never shows up to help you in Bargate prison. In fact I only recently found out what she DOES do (I never learned to use the Oracle in Fable prior to recently). Basically, in the game she just stays in Samarkand to become a hero.

I really have nothing to say in my defense. When I was playing the game, it just seemed to me kinda stupid that Whisper disappeared halfway through. Also, once I realized that you actually HAD to stay in Bargate Prison for a year as part of the story, it got me wondering what everyone else must have been thinking during that time. Kinda had a hint of that last time. So I made up a version where Whisper DOES return and DOES try to seek Alan out. With Theresa's help. Because only Theresa would know, obviously.

Complaints aside, I do kinda like how Theresa ended up in this chapter. Whisper's just meeting her and she's not sure what to make of this bizarre lady. It's a good dynamic. Plus, Theresa can give us some interesting insight as to this AU world.

Review Please! AU's don't turn out well all the time, and this one is a pretty glaring departure, so I'm interested to hear how well you think it turned out.


	18. Whispers of Fate

**The Whispers of Fate**

* * *

There's a story Whisper's heard many times from heroes around the guild. It involves a large ship, a ferocious storm, and her brother.

And krakens. Lots and lots of krakens.

Whisper's not sure if she believes the story. Thunder never told her what happened to the pirates who took them from Samarkand. He's never mentioned anything about an enormous storm that overtook the boat. Never told her whether or not it was attacked by krakens. Never verified if he cast lightning on them all and dived off the boat, Whisper in his arms. He's never mentioned anything about hearing the dying screams of sailors echo in the deep dark of the water. So Whisper has no way of knowing whether the story is true.

But she does know one thing. Ever since she was small, she has always hated something about the name "Kraken" and the mythology surrounding the fearsome sea-beast. And the second those tentacles rocket out of the water and she hears the roaring scream, she knows what it is.

"Aw, arse." Alan curses.

"Avo help us." The old woman breathes.

Theresa, the only one really prepared, whips out her long sword. The action recalls Whisper from her shocked state, and she brings up her spear in defense. _Much good it would do against those tentacles anyway._ She reflects.

"Barriers over the door. It figures." At the least, Alan hasn't gotten over his annoying calmness. "Okay, so those things don't have eyes, so they can't…"

"Alan!" Whisper shouts, diving at him. He half-turns at her, sword at the ready, but before he can bring it down she's slammed into him, sending both of them into a roll as one huge tentacle smashes down behind them.

Whisper picks herself off of Alan and gives him a pointed look.

"…right." He takes a deep breath. "They can still tell where we are. Good to know." He jumps up and whips out his sword. "Not a problem. Just need to poke them when they come down. Dodge and strike."

"There are four tentacles, son." Notes the old woman. "We can't dodge them all."

"If we spread out it might not be so bad." Whisper hears herself saying. "That way we only have one each to worry about."

"Sounds like a plan." Alan nods, and leaps into action.

It works surprisingly well. Whisper's astonished at how quickly she picks up how to dodge the appendage and slice at it. She even dares to throw a few grenades at it while it's up in the air. In all the excitement, however, she can't spare a moment to look at the others, and it's only when her tentacle goes shrieking back to the lake that she notices something odd about Alan.

He's limping. Something seems off with his right leg, he's not moving as quickly anymore. Not only that, but his blows aren't nearly as powerful as they used to be and he winces every time his arm is jostled. He's doing worse than Theresa, who dodges her enemy with breathtaking grace and swings around to chop it in half. Granted, he's still holding his own—that tentacle isn't going to last much longer—but it's easy to see that he's suffered over the past year.

At the moment, though, it's the old woman who needs help. She's dodging the blows with amazing speed, but a glance shows Whisper she's tiring quickly. The old woman is good, no doubt about it, but she doesn't have the stamina to keep this up for long.

A grenade clears the playing field, and the next second Whisper is standing in front of the old woman. "I'll go left, you go right." She instructs.

"Good!" Comes the reply.

The swirling tentacle comes down, and Whisper rolls left, jumps back up and rushes at the pinned appendage. From the other side she can see the scarred face of the gray-haired lady rushing toward her.

Spear and sword sink deep into the Kraken's scaly flesh, and with a shriek, it tears itself free to go slithering back into the water.

"Thank you." Says the woman, leaning against the wall, gasping. "I guess I'm… a little out of practice."

"Where did you learn to move like that?" Whisper asks.

Another shriek interrupts her as the last tentacle goes sliding back into the pit. "Ha… gotcha!" Alan roars down after it. He looks over at Theresa. "Not too bad, huh?"

"We're not done yet." Comes Theresa's reply.

Whisper's learned to trust Theresa on these matters, so when the water begins to bubble and froth again, she's already got her spear out and at the ready. She's prepared. But even prepared as she is, the mere sight of the horrifically grotesque head that comes roaring out of the water is enough to shock her still.

Whisper still has no way of knowing if the story of her brother is true. But one look at the head of that monster, and she believes it is. She's seen those eyes in too many nightmares.

Fortunately, the monster seems to be fixated on Alan for the moment, so there's enough time for the old lady to jar her elbow. "Come on then, girl! We need to fight it!" She cries, running around toward Alan's position.

Whisper doesn't run over. There's no room for her. But she finds her stash of grenades incredibly useful for hurling at the creatures head to distract it from Alan and the old woman. Theresa is standing still—apparently she can't see the creature's head at all, and can only focus on dodging it if it comes her way. Alan seems to be doing well enough, though he's still a slower and weaker Alan than Whisper remembers. More than once it's only her grenades or the old woman's steel that saves him from being swallowed whole by the creature.

What has he been going through? Theresa mentioned Alan was in great pain and danger, and simply his eyes alone confirm that for her. But where has he been, and what has happened to him?

Suddenly her vision snaps to the front. The kraken unleashes another vile stream of poison at the two figures on the far side, and the old lady goes flying. Alan manages to roll away from the worst of the blast, but he's plainly hurt, badly. He tries to get up, but stumbles and collapses on the pavement.

Whisper gasps and reaches for her sack, only to find nothing but air. Out of grenades, she realizes in a panic. Now what is she supposed to do?

The creature rears up the whole length of its long ugly neck. Whisper could almost swear it's grinning.

Theresa's standing still. She knows something's happening, but not what.

The old woman is lying flat on the pavement. Maybe she's dead.

Alan looks like he's trying to summon a fireball, but the will just isn't holding out on him. He looks up at the creature and yells something Whisper can't hear. The creature just keeps grinning, and then suddenly swoops forward…

With a primal scream, Whisper launches her spear at the loathsome head, catching it just under the jaw. It recoils, screaming in irritation, and two enormous, pupil-less eyes turn to regard her. Without even thinking, Whisper jabs her hand forward and lightning shoots from her fingertips.

Later, the Guildmaster will inform her of how a metal spear like hers conducts electricity and how water does also. He will also ask her how she suddenly mastered a level five lightning spell similar to what her brother uses.

Right now, all that Whisper knows is that the Kraken is suddenly coursing with Lightning, writhing in enormous throes of agony, and breaking up the entire chamber. She feels like the life is being sucked out of her, but she doesn't dare stop. She just keeps pouring the lightning into it until it gives one final shriek, writhes once more, and falls into the water.

And then Whisper collapses.

* * *

"…awake…"

"There it is, she's coming round."

The words are floating around Whisper's head, and its only with difficulty that she can recognize Theresa and Alan's voices. It hurts to open her eyes, but when she does, she sees Alan's face hovering just above hers.

"You alright?" He smiles.

"Fine." She answers, a little startled. He's pretty close right now, and Whisper can see all the scars running over his face. Some of them are little more than red lines, others are much more prominent, and a few are obviously quite fresh. There's one particularly nasty one across his nose and forehead that makes her wince just to look at. Alan looks very different from the boy she knew.

Actually, he looks ugly, though at the moment she doesn't think that. Right now she's startled just at how close his face is and all that she can see on it.

"Fine." She repeats, breaking the silence. "I'm fine. Just… a little tired, that's all."

"That's good." Alan stands to his feet and smiles down at her. "We were afraid you'd wasted yourself with that last bit there, but Theresa said you'd be alright, so we brought you out into the air." He glances around. "Well, such as it is."

Whisper follows his glance and realizes they're in the noisome graveyard circle. They must've dragged her out here after she collapsed.

"It's good that you're awake, dear." The new voice makes her turn her head and she sees the old woman. "Theresa told us all about you and how you came to her, and I must say it was rather foolish of you. Bargate Prison is a very dangerous place. Still, I'm very grateful. There's no telling what would have happened had you not been here."

"Bargate… Prison…?" _That's where Alan was? Bargate Prison, the infamous slave camp? _

The woman is no longer paying attention to her. Instead, she looks over at Alan. "We've wasted enough time here already. You need to get to Hook Coast before Jack does. You remember what I told you about how to get there?"

Alan shrugs. "I think so."

"Then go." The woman motions. "I'll head to the Guild and see if I can find anything helpful there. Theresa, you follow with Whisper as soon as you can. Jack will be after any one of us he can find."

"Very well, mother." Somewhere off to her left, Theresa's voice responds.

_Mother?_

"Very well then." The old woman gives a fierce nod. "I must go now. And… " She pauses and looks attentively at her. "Whisper? was your name?"

"Yes."

"Thank you again. I wish I had time to explain, but I must leave." And with that, she runs off into the graveyard.

"I think mother likes you." Alan chuckles.

"Stop for a moment." Whisper shakes her head. "That's your mother?"

"Yes." There's a strange sound to Alan's voice, one that she hasn't heard before. "Yes it is."

"But…" Whisper's head is starting to hurt and she lays back down. "Isn't she supposed to be dead? I thought you said she was dead?"

"I thought she was." Alan bends down and sits next to her, smiling. "For the past twenty years I've thought so. But that whole time, she's been sitting in a torture chamber in Bargate Prison, enduring Jack's taunts. Waiting for someone to come for her." He stares up at the stars. "But until recently, I didn't even know. Theresa told me she was being held here, and I came as quickly as I could."

Understanding dawns on her. "You were captured trying to free her."

"Stupid mistake." He shakes his head. "Jack had a way of following me… he knew every move we made. We were caught just as we were getting out, and then…" he swallows. "… and then… it's only been a year, I know, but…"

Whisper looks at him.

"But it's over now." He looks back and smiles. "It may have taken me a year, but I'm out now, and my mother with me, and that's what matters, right?"

Whisper can't think of anything to say, so she nods.

"Pretty amazing, really." Looking down, he laughs. "When I was younger, I didn't think I had a family left. Thought the only thing left was vengeance. But now…" He glances over at the stones. "Now… I've got them all back. Together. We're a family again."

The look on his face makes her heart bleed, because she both knows and doesn't know what he's talking about. That loss, that sense of alienation… she knows what that is. But unlike him, she hasn't found her family. If anything, she's lost it. Alan has a comfort she feels she'll never know.

"Right then." Alan touches the Guild seal on his chest. "I need to get going. Whisper..." He hesitates a moment. "…as soon as this is taken care of, I'm going to have to catch up with you." He grins. "Theresa says you've been up to an awful lot." As blue light envelops him, he waves goodbye.

There's a short silence. Theresa is not conversational, and Whisper is still trying to work things out. But her strength is slowly returning, and before long she manages to struggle upright. "Okay, I think I can walk." She looks over at Theresa, who's staring impassively at the gravestones. "So… we're supposed to go to the Heroes' Guild?"

"We might as well get started." Theresa responds, sounding unusually apathetic.

"Out of curiosity, is this really the best idea?" Grabbing her spear, Whisper leans on it as they make their way toward the door. "I mean, technically you're still a bandit. They might attack you."

"Oh, I'm sure they will." Theresa shrugs.

There's not much to say to that, really, and Whisper says nothing more until they've pushed their way through the doors and are going on through the graveyard path. "So… Theresa… you were talking earlier about how… I'm not supposed to be here… or something."

"Yes."

"What did you mean by that?" Whisper tries to read Theresa's expression but gives it up. "Am I… supposed to be somewhere else?"

"I don't know where you are supposed to be." Theresa responds. "I can only see the destiny that lies before me and certain others. Yours is not one I can see. I only know that neither you, nor I, were supposed to be here tonight."

"Huh?" Whisper arched an eyebrow. "But… your mother just said…"

"She said no one could know what would've happened if we hadn't." Theresa nods. "And she's right. But I know how things would have ended. "

"How?"

"Exactly the same." Theresa gives her head a toss. "Oh, Alan may have used a few Resurrection Phials and an extra health potion, but for the most part, it would have come to the same thing. In fact, the only real difference is that we were there."

"So… you're saying it was pointless." Whisper rolled her eyes. "Look, if this is about your whole 'only my brother can help himself' thing…"

"I did not say it was pointless." Theresa calmly interrupted her. "It was not. We were involved, and our choice to become involved was important to you as well as I. It may not have greatly affected the future, but it has affected our ROLE in the future."

Staring at the strange girl, Whisper could think of only one word. "Huh?"

"Think of it in this way. The future, and the courses of events that make it up are set. Battles will happen, victories will occur, people will die. The story of destiny has been written out before us. Simply speaking, there is little one man can do to change that. However. Within that destiny, within those events, our choices affect the role we play. The world may die burning, but our decisions determine whether we will help or hinder that burning."

"For instance." Theresa seemed strangely interested in the subject. "You have heard the story, doubtless, of the rebellion within the Guild to take more than simply 'virtuous' quests. You have probably also heard that Maze and the Guildmaster were members of this rebellion. Now, the rebellion itself was inevitable. It would have happened, if not by them, then by Twinblade or Thunder or some other disgruntled hero who believed in 'Freedom of Choice.' But the decision that they made affected the role they played, and made THEM the ones to bring the revolution about."

"When I said you were not supposed to be here, I meant that I had not seen you in the events I saw. Your role was to have been that of an outsider—here, and then gone. But you made a choice, and changed your role within the story of destiny." Theresa looked at Whisper with uncanny accuracy and smiled. "And by doing so, you changed my role, and very likely my brother's also, though of course I cannot say."

"Well…" Whisper felt a little confused. "But doesn't that… I dunno… affect destiny at all?"

"Oh no." Theresa shook her head. "Destiny still works its way. Events still happen as they have been set down. For instance." She pointed, again with uncanny accuracy. "There's Maze."

* * *

**A/N: **So, since you've read thus far already, and either gotten disgusted or enthralled or just plain bored, you might as well as drop me a note to let me know which it is. REVIEW! I mean, I figure if I can write 2000 words or so, you can spare a few.

2000... Goodness sakes. I swear, one of these chapters I'm going to get back to one of my short little pieces again. These things just grow on me. I start out thinking how short it will be, and then I explain everything away. It's worse because I really shouldn't be spending this amount of time on writing. I have tons of other projects I need to working.

Anyway. This chapter was pretty fun to write. What with Whisper's memories and Theresa's philosophy, it was really pretty cool.

Again, please review!


	19. Lost Whispers

**Lost Whispers**

**

* * *

  
**

Whisper wakes up half-an-hour later with a headache pounding in her skull and every muscle in her body on fire.

Theresa's gone. The two of them never really stood a chance against him. Granted, Whisper was a little off-guard—she'd never have expected to be attacked by the Guild head—but even so Whisper knows there was nothing either of them could do. Maze hasn't softened with age, whatever else has happened to him, and about half of the paralyzed nerves she's feeling right now are probably due to that black sphere he shot at her. She's not sure exactly why he left her alive.

But there's no time to worry about that now. Maze didn't say an awful lot, but what he did say was enough to tell Whisper that this has NOTHING to do with Theresa being a bandit and EVERYTHING to do with her being Alan's sister. Why, Whisper doesn't know. But she needs to contact the Guild, fast, and let them know.

She doesn't have her Guild Seal anymore, but manages to fight back the paralysis long enough to get to the Lychfield Cullis Gate. A light touch on the right runes, and the next thing she knows she's stumbling into the Map Room.

"Guildmaster…" She calls out, dimly aware of apprentices and heroes rushing around in a blind panic. "Guildmaster…"

Her legs give out completely. But as she tumbles toward the floor, a pair of huge brown hands shoot out and grab her.

Whisper stares up at a very familiar-looking face. "Brother?" She mumbles.

"Whisper!" His face is changed in many ways, but at the moment the only thing Whisper can see is the concern etched across them. "What has happened…"

"Thunder!" The Guildmaster comes rushing forward. "Hurry! He's already finished at Witchwood!"

Thunder's face clears immediately. "Yes!" He gently lowers her to the floor and then stands. "Whisper's wounded. Take care of her and I'll be back as soon as I can." He touches his seal and dissolves into light.

Guildmaster props her up and some children rush forward with healing draughts. All around her heroes are popping in and out, appearing and disappearing in flashes of light. It's a madhouse and Whisper has no idea what's going on.

In between the orders he's shouting, Guildmaster tries to explain it to her. She doesn't understand half of it… something about Jack of Blades and a famous sword and a Bloodline… but she does manage to catch that Alan and his family are closely tied up in it. Suddenly Whisper understands why Maze was acting strangely.

"Master…" She croaks. "Maze…"

"Yes, we know about Maze." There's suffering in the old man's voice. "Pilgrim defeated him, but not before Jack got the Septimal Key. Now the focus sites are active and the whole world is burning. If we don't…"

"Master!" Screams an apprentice, materializing in front of them. "Jack's activated the Hobbes' site! He's going towards Headsman's hill!"

"Avo help us." The Guildmaster breaths. He stands up and lifts his hands. "All of you who are ready, go! The rest, gather to me!"

Blue light fills the Guild as one after another Apprentices wink out of sight. The others are flocking to the library, and Guildmaster is shouting orders… they're tearing down bookcases, propping them up… a barricade, Whisper realizes. They're making a barricade.

"Archers behind! Avatar, Gladiator, go beyond and hold the bridge! Dodger…"

Whisper struggles to her feet and limps over to the barricade. There's a bow sitting on the ground and she picks it up. Archery's not her specialty, but it will have to do. Guildmaster notices her and for a moment he looks pained, but he shakes it off and runs out again. "More archers on the balcony!" He cries. "Swordsmen on the stairs, pikes behind! Guards…"

Whisper struggles into a sitting position and manages to pull the bow back half-way. Good enough, she decides. Glancing about, she notices Murray, the bartender, rushing past with a crossbow. He's holding it terribly wrong, but one word from the Guildmaster and he clambers up the stairs to join the others on the balcony. The shopkeeper, Ficgild, fumbles with the iron sword he's pulled out of the shop. Out of the corner of her eye, Whisper notices others of the apprentices herding the schoolchildren to safety—probably the woods, she reasons.

"Jack is activating Headsman's hill!" She hears someone scream.

"Avo help us. Avo help us." The apprentice next to her is muttering.

Guildmaster comes running back over the barricade, eyes hard. "All back! All back!" He roars. His hands are glowing with a strange light. "Stand at the ready!

Apprentices swarm over the barricade and fix themselves in position. A few stragglers run up the stairs. Forty heroes draw their weapons and face the door.

There is one long, terrible, moment of silence.

And then the Gate explodes. It does not open, it does not burst, it explodes, and the whole front of the building with it. Arrows, fireballs, and lightning go shrieking past. Whisper lets go an arrow without seeing where it goes and lazily notches another. It doesn't matter, really. It doesn't matter.

A lone red figure strides calmly through the door and laughs.

Arrows pour down at him. Guildmaster raises his arm and cries aloud…

And suddenly everything is an painful shriek of red.

* * *

Explosions.

Whisper awakens to the sound of explosions. Rumblings in the earth, so great she can feel them shudder through the rocks against her skin. They are close, very close, yet somehow not as loud as she feels they ought to be.

Slowly she blinks awake. As her brother's face comes into focus above her, she sees it relax. He nods to the healer next to him, indicating that she is done. As the healer leaves, he hands Whisper a potion and smiles. Turning her head, Whisper regards the source of the sounds—the Guild Caverns, and beyond that, the Chamber of Fate. And though no one tells her, she can feel that in there, battling with Jack, is Alan. The thought frightens her and she presses her brother's hand. He pats it gently.

He says nothing. Neither does she. Neither does anyone in the room. They're all listening, listening to those rumbling explosions.

Apprentices and heroes are gathered by the entrance to the door—whether to defend against Jack or simply to hear better, she can't tell. Over to the left, Briar Rose is stooped over the Guildmaster, who looks up and smiles weakly. The bartender is a large lumpy shape back by the stairs, where apparently he tumbled during the battle. The healer from before is kneeling by him, but eventually she shakes her head and rises. They cover his face.

All the heroes are here, or at least all the surviving ones. She can see guards too, probably brought from Bowerstone by Briar. They've gathered from the focus sites battles, and now they sit and wait to see what emerges from the Chamber of Fate.

Alan of Albion? Or Jack of Blades?

Her neck is tired. She leans back to rest it against the crumbled stone of the Library and looks up through the cracked ceiling. The sky is dark, she notes. What time is it? How long has she been asleep? Has the battle gone on all day?

But no. Her brother's wounds are fresh and the pains in her back are too sharp to be old. It must be the same day. Barely noon. And yet the sky is dark. What strange days are these, when the earth groans with sounds of battle and the sky turns dark at noon. How can men know what to do in such days?

She looks over at her brother, who is still watching her anxiously. She smiles at him. He smiles back.

Suddenly an enormous rumble shakes the ground. Everything shakes, and Whisper feels her head rock with the motion. Above, some few books that remain on the shelves topple out and to the ground. A few hanging bits of ceiling jerk loose and crash down.

Thunder lets Whisper's hand fall and stands to his feet as Briar springs to hers. Near the entrance to the cavern, the eavesdroppers move back, exchanging nervous glances. Grim-faced, the guards move forward, hands on their swords.

What's the use? Whisper wonders. If Jack has triumphed, will it be any good?

She pushes herself against the stones and struggles into an upright position, facing the door. Out of the corner of her eye she can see an apprentice helping Guildmaster to his feet. She doesn't bother to reach for the bow at her side, it would mean nothing against Jack. But even if it's the last thing she sees, she wants to see what comes out of the Chamber.

Nothing does, for a long time. A long, long time. Some of the younger apprentices even relax and begin to glance around. But Thunder and Briar stay tense and still, and Whisper does not take her eyes from the door. She has to see.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

Hard metal armor clashes and rattles in the darkness of the cavern. Step, step, step. Clank, clank, clank. A firm and steady stride, belonging to a man who has won his battle and knows it. Step, step, step. Clank, clank, clank.

Alan steps out into the light, armor gleaming, a lifeless body in his arms.

When she thinks about it later, Whisper can't be sure who started the cheering. Maybe it was Briar. Maybe it was Guildmaster. Maybe it was some guard back in the crowd. Maybe it was even her. She can't be sure. All she knows is that one moment, the air was still, and the next, it was full of cheering. Nearly a hundred heroes, twice as many apprentices, and twice _that_ many guards, all cheering, clapping, waving, sobbing even. They don't know what happened, whose body that is in Alan's arms, or how he managed to defeat Jack. For the moment, it's just enough that he HAS defeated Jack.

But it strikes Whisper, especially, that Alan looks strangely sorrowful for such a victory. And then she recognizes what he's carrying.

The body itself is lined with cuts, bruises, and lacerations. The eyes are ghostly pale, rolling back in their sockets, and the mouth is hanging open at a disturbing angle. Short hair, matted with dirt and blood is in a tangle all over her face, and there's a horribly red gash across her throat, but there's still no mistaking her.

It's the old woman from the graveyard. The curiously agile one that she fought the Kraken with. The lady Alan went all the way to Bargate Prison for. His mother.

Whisper's cheers die on her lips, suddenly understanding.

As the joyous tumult flows around her, she sees Theresa emerge from the darkness behind her brother. She pauses beside him a moment, looks up at him, nods, and then walks off. He seems to try to stop her or speak with her, but there's no chance. She's gone far too quickly. No word of farewell, no embrace, no backward glance even. She's just gone.

Alan has lost the family he's only known for a day.

**to be continued...**

* * *

**A/N:**So seeing as how you've already READ the chapter so far, (and believe me, I appreciate that), I figure you might as well click the little button down below and just leave me a few words about how much you love or detest this story. You have no idea how exciting it is to open your inbox to receive an absolutely SCATHING critique of your story that tells you everything that you're doing wrong. Good times.

Then again, most of you probably write yourselves, so maybe you do know. I can tell you now, the more you review other's stories, the more they're likely to review yours.

So review.

Something that I always found fascinating about the battle with Jack of Blades is the wonderful feeling of scale you have. You're going ALL over the place, but more importantly you're being helped by ALL sorts of people. It's about as close to being in a full-sale battle that you get in that game. I especially liked the guards. Here are men that are hopelessly over there head... just simply completely outclassed. But for all of that they still go on and fight, because it's their duty. Pretty cool.

Anyway. So what I was interested in this story is what things are like if you're NOT Alan. Like, say, what would it be like to be at the last stand at the Guild? I thought that was a fascinating idea. So I spent a bit of time on that. I was going to have the kid-level apprentices there too, but I decided that was a bit much.

And, of course, the final result of the battle. We're going to see some interesting effects of that battle on Alan. A little more behind-the-scenes stuff, not quite as much as before, but still something interesting, I hope.


	20. Scolding Whispers

**Scolding Whispers**

* * *

In the weeks following Jack's defeat, the Guild struggles to rebuild itself. Or, perhaps more properly, Albion struggles to rebuild itself. Jack's undead army wreaked substantial damage to the countryside in the short period it was free to do so. Many homes and villages have suffered, and it's difficult for the Guild to commission builders to fix their own walls and ceilings. (Most of the heroes, predictably, have never done such work in their lives before, so they cannot help.)

Not only must Albion rebuild itself, it must take care that it does not tear itself apart. Many bandits, assassins, rebels, and warlords, seeing the damaged state of the Guild, begin to take advantage of it with a stream of unprecedented attacks. It's impossible for the unwounded heroes to handle them all, and yet it's important that none be turned down. The Guild cannot be seen as weak at this juncture, or else all will be lost.

The Guild needs a strong leader to carry it through such a time. Unfortunately, none is available.

Weaver—the Guildmaster—would seem to be the logical choice. The oldest hero left in the Guild, he bears years of experience, and knows every detail about how the Guild should be managed. Yet he protests he cannot take the position. "I am an old, weak man." He says. "And moreover, I am not made to govern, only administer."

Thunder is possibly one of the most powerful heroes, but he seems unpopular, and to Whisper's chagrin, he no longer seems interested in the work of the Guild. He spends long hours away from the reconstruction, and takes quests grudgingly. From hints he drops, Whisper suspects he knows where Lady Grey is, and visits her often.

Briar Rose, while knowledgeable and clever, is too irritable to gain anyone's loyalty, and is of far too independent a nature anyway. Moreover, as nobody dares to mention but everyone knows, she is a woman. While her abilities are not in doubt, everyone realizes that many in the Guild would resent her leadership simply on that ground. In any case, Briar does not seem to care about the position. "Absolute bore." She comments when Whisper asks. "I'd have to stay around the place all the day."

Whisper… well, is also a woman, and also technically does not belong to the Guild. She has perhaps spent more time than anyone else in repairing the building and healing the heroes, and has more than once left on quests in the Guild's name, but she does not take a seal and she does not enter her name in the heroes' roll. That life is behind her, she insists. Though willing to help the Guild recover, she does not want any further commitment than that.

In truth, no one wants the position because everyone knows who should take it. But Alan is nowhere to be found. He has not shown up at the Guild since Jack was defeated, but has instead taken to wandering the land. Occasionally they hear of him in Knothole Glade or Barrow Fields, but he never stays for long. Once again he has become a Pilgrim. Guildmaster tries to contact him through his seal, but he never responds except to occasionally accept a quest in the nearby area.

It's an impossible state of affairs that can't last. Whisper manages to stand it for the first two weeks, but at the end of the third she finally decides to take action. Fortunately, Guildmaster knows exactly where Alan is. "Oakvale." He tells her. "In the cemetery."

Oakvale cemetery is empty by the time Whisper gets there, but the beach is not. Alan, in full armor, is sitting at the end of the dock, staring off into the sunset. As Whisper strides up to him he doesn't even turn.

"Hello Alan." She says, stopping just a little behind him.

"Whisper." He nods. "What are you doing here?"

She considers lying, but decides against it. He'd probably see through it anyway. "You." She shrugs. "We haven't seen you at the Guild in a while. I thought I should check up on you."

"Could've saved your time." He grunts. "With Jack gone, it's not like there's any warlord that can put a scratch on me right now. And doesn't the Guild have anything better to do besides send out people on babysitting missions?"

Staring at him, Whisper feels a stirring of… something. She can't believe she's hearing this. "The Guild has more than it can handle right now, as you know perfectly well." She says, coming a step closer.

"Yes, I do." He nods, not turning around. "So they shouldn't be wasting time sending you out to make sure I'm alright. I don't need any help."

The strange something grows stronger. "You might not, but the Guild _does_." She insists, a certain edge to her voice. "The Guild needs all the help it can get right now. That means you, Alan. What are you doing here on the dock in Oatsvale? There's a whole country out there that needs your help!"

He utters a short laugh. "Oh no. Don't tell me you're here to give me old man Guildmaster's line. How many times do I need to tell him?" He half-turns to look at her. "C'mon. I helped out the world already. I defeated Jack, didn't I? What more do they want?"

"What do they want?" Whisper repeats, disbelieving. "What do they want?" The strange feeling is swelling, and now she recognizes it.

It's anger. Fierce, frustrated anger for what she's seeing and what she's hearing.

"What do you mean, what do they want?" She explodes. "They want protection, they want help, they want peace on earth, but that's not the point! The point is, you have all the power and the ability to help them and you're just SITTING here on the dock doing NOTHING! Albion is tearing itself apart, and all you can do is stare off into the sunset!"

"What do I care about Albion?" He grumbles. "They've never done anything for me."

"Oh, you mean besides give you a warm place to sleep, good food, a proper upbringing and plenty of money for every quest you've done?" Whisper comments sarcastically. "Nothing, I suppose. But that's not the point either, Alan. You're a hero! Probably the greatest hero in the Guild right now!" Inside, Whisper knows there's no doubt about the 'probably,' but she's too impassioned to care. "Heroes don't just sit on docks and mope while things go to pieces."

Alan sighs contemplatively. "What do heroes do?"

"What do…" Whisper finds herself speechless, which is just as well, really, because she's remembering a similar conversation in a much different setting. A speech in an arena of sand and blood.

* * *

_"I mean, people have reasons for what they do." Alan continues, utterly lost in thought. "Always. Reasons. Reasons reasons reasons. They have reasons to become heroes, and they must have reasons to stop being heroes. A purpose, y'know, or an end to pursue. But how would trying to follow one end lead into a completely different end? How could you forget about one and change it for another?" Wiping the sweat from his brow and coughing a little, he wheezes out. "But then... villians have their own purposes too, y'know. Ends. So what makes a hero's end different from a villain's?" He suddenly looks down and his voice grows louder. "What is it, Whisper? What is the end of a hero? Do you know? Can you tell me?"_

_

* * *

_

She didn't know the answer back then, and she had thought that Alan did. But now, here is the man who she thought had all the answers, asking her. And it drives her speechless.

Alan, on the other hand, seems suddenly full of words. "What's the point? I mean, I train for all these years, I fight villains all over Albion, I cut my way through Twinblade's camp and Bargate-freaking-prison, and what do I get for it!? Nothing! I don't… I don't even…" He bites off and returns to studying the sky. "Nothing."

Whisper could mention the fact that people are clamoring for him back in the Guild and Bowerstone. She could tell him of the fabulous power and wealth that thousands would be willing to offer. The hundreds of women crowded in every bar, sighing over his name. (For some reason that last one really annoys her). But doesn't tell him about any of it, because she can't believe what he's saying. "You were never concerned about the rewards before." She comments, glancing away. There's a group of children playing by the seaside.

"Not the rewards YOU fought for, no." He retorts. "But I still was aiming at one. I wanted revenge, Whisper. Revenge, retribution, peace for my slaughtered family. I trained all those years to revenge my family, and then I heard they might be alive. So I fought to restore them, and then I found they had been captured. So I fought to free them. And then I saw they were dead, so I fought once again, to revenge one and free the other." He sucks on his hand, staring off into the sky. "Everything I have done, Whisper, I have done for my family. And now all that is gone."

There's a momentary silence, Whisper staring at the armor-clad Alan, he still staring off into the distance. The waves gently lap against the dock and the wind wails past them to the shore. Back on the beach, Whisper can hear the laughter of the children playing.

Finally Alan sighs. "I have no interest in the Guild anymore." He says, with an air of finality. "They can do nothing for me, and I have done all that I wish to for them. I fought against Jack for my family and the world. I lost my family, I don't really care what happens to the world. That's my answer and you're stuck with it, so you might as well get back to Guildmaster and tell him…"

"Like Skorm I will!" Whisper explodes. "Of all the most ridiculous, childish… Have you even been listening to yourself? 'I don't care what happens to the world.' 'What's in it for me.' 'I've done all I feel like doing.' You make it sound as if the world OWES you something for bringing you to life."

He glances at her, apparently surprised by her fury. So is she, really, but she can't stop to consider it. "You're part of this world, Alan! You can't just turn your back on it because things didn't turn out like you'd hoped."

"Sure I can." He turns back to the ocean.

"No, you can't." She snorts in return. "You're here in Oatsvale, aren't you? You're walking on the same ground I am, under the same sky. You can't run from the world. You've lived in it too long to ignore it, and the sooner you realize that, the better."

He's still staring off to sea, and it irritates her. She reaches forward, grabs his shoulder, and turns him around to face her. "Listen to me!" She yells, her face red. Whether that's because she's angry or because he's so close, she can't tell, but again she doesn't stop to think. "You lost your family. I'm sorry. But that doesn't mean you can sit around while Albion crumbles around you. You have friends, Alan. Briar, Guildmaster, me. And if you don't stop moping around these docks, you might lose us too! One of us might die. One of THEM might!" She gestures furiously at the children playing at the shore. "Die, because you were too busy moping to stand up and help! Then how will you feel?"

He's not saying anything. Just staring at her.

It annoys her. "You know." She hisses, with more disappointment then she can account for, "I once thought you were a great Hero. I thought that you knew what being a hero MEANT. But if this is all you're going to do, if you really don't care what happens to the rest of the world…" She pushes him away, "… then I guess I was wrong."

She turns away quickly, before he sees the tears welling up, and stalks down the dock. "Come back to the Guild when you've decided to grow up, Farmboy!" She yells, every word burning in her chest. "We don't have room there for little boys."

* * *

The next day, Whisper's mind is only half on her work. The other half is regretting every word she said to Alan and seething over everything Alan said to her. For some reason she feels as if something very important has been lost. Guildmaster asks her several times what's wrong with her, but she puts him off with evasive answers.

This state of mind lasts about half the day. Somewhere around noon, she and Guildmaster are standing in the courtyard, wearily listening to a farmer talk about a hostage situation in Greatwood. One of the bandit clans, sounds like. Briar is out, so is Thunder, and Whisper doesn't really trust any of the younger heroes in a dangerous situation like this.

"I'll get my spear." She tells the man, turning back to the main building.

"Don't bother." The sound of the voice freezes her in her tracks. "I can take care of it."

Turning around, she sees Alan standing in the middle of the road, one armor-clad hand resting on his great sword. He looks a little weary, but there's a definite grin on his face as he says: "I haven't done anything for a while. It'll be good for me."

"Welcome back, lad." Guildmaster beams.

"Yes," Whisper nods, feeling a smile spread across her face. "Welcome back, hero."

* * *

**A/N**: REVIEW! I'm actually a little antsy about how Alan and Whisper came out this chapter, so write and tell me if it fits with your conception of them. I get the feeling they're a little OOC.

With the angle I'm taking on this story, it made sense that Alan would get pretty depressed about his family after the battle with JAck. My brother always thought it was a little odd how essentially Theresa doesn't seem to feel any gratitude for your saving her, she just up and leaves. If I were a hero, I think that'd leave me with some issues. So this is an explication of that, and Whisper's more or less acting how I would like to in this situation. I'm not a very patient person, if I ever tried to be a therapist, probably half my patients would sink into depression in the first week. Fortunately it seems to have worked on Alan.

Anyway. Next chapter: Alan settles into his role as the new Guild Head, but something disastrous is about to happen to Whisper...


	21. Whispers of Danger

**Whispers of Danger**

**

* * *

  
**

It comes on so gradually that by the time Whisper realizes what it is, it's too late.

Granted, she's distracted. The reconstruction of the Guild still requires constant attention, and after that there's Bowerstone to attend to. Alan and the Guildmaster rely on her for an awful lot of things. Alan's arrival certainly makes things easier, but not enough for her to notice what's happening. Then too, Whisper's never really been the introspective sort, she doesn't spend a whole lot of time examining things unless they're on the battlefield.

And it's so slow. So quiet. The warning signs are all around her, but they're so innocuous she doesn't notice them.

Days after Alan's return, he's elected as the new Guild head. Not a surprise to anyone, really, except himself. "I don't feel like a head, Whisper." He tells her as she helps him arrange things in his new quarters. "I feel like an overpowered bear that fixes problems by charging at them."

She can't stop smiling at his odd shyness. "If that's what you're doing, it's been working pretty well. You've fixed every problem we've had so far, Farmboy."

"Heh." He grins at the use of his old nickname. "Sure, but we haven't really had any bad problems yet. Anything we get I can more or less send you or Briar after. When I need to send out squads, I'm going to have to really lead people. How'm I supposed to do that?"

The doubt is ridiculous, as Whisper well knows. Everybody in the Guild is dedicated to Alan already. But the Alan she saw at the dock is still in her mind, so she says: "You could always turn it down."

"No." He smiles and looks away. "They chose me. Even if I'm not certain, they are. They trust me to lead, and the least I can do is to make that trust justified. I owe it to them. After all," he looks back at her and grins, "…we all have to do what we can, huh? Just because I don't feel like it is no reason to stop, is it?"

She feels a proud glow go through her. "No, Alan, it's not."

He nods and surveys the room. "If they trust me to lead, Whisper, I'm going to show them they're right."

And he does. In the next few weeks, Alan's mere presence draws the Guild back together. The people are filled with hope and the bandits with terror at the news of his return. Even as crime drops, quests come pouring in, many asking for Alan personally. Heroes come flocking back, eager to fight alongside the legendary Pilgrim. With apparent ease he organizes and disciplines them, assigning certain ones to deal with the new flood of quest while assigning others to help in the reconstruction of the Guild. A natural leader, he inspires the Guild with a fire of hope.

"We are the Guild of Heroes." He tells the assembled heroes in the newly repaired Chamber of Fate. "The greatest force in all of Albion, a force that can be used either to destroy or protect. The path is yours to choose, but the code of the Quest is not. When you take on a quest, you take on a trust that you will do your utmost to complete that quest or perish in the attempt. You promise to abide by the terms of the quest. Because that is what a hero DOES. A hero does his utmost to fulfill the tasks required of him."

The heroes applaud wildly, and even though Whisper heard this whole speech last night while she was helping him practice, she can't help but feel moved too. Alan can talk all he likes about his doubts: the fact remains that he's a born leader.

He's also a surprisingly diplomatic one. A week or so after all the heroes have returned to all their proper posts, he's traveling about the countryside at record speed, speaking with the Knothole Glade chief, with the Bowerstone Mayor, with all the village heads. It helps that he has their complete respect to begin with, but it's still nothing short of wonderful the way he brings them together and diffuses the threatening breakup of Albion. He even manages to bring Hook Coast into the alliance, something no one has done before. (But then, Hook Coast hasn't been open for ages.)

"It's not really much." He tells her later that night as they're looking through the library for information on dragons. "Just an agreement to allow trade between all villages and not make war on each other, which they were pretty much doing anyway. Still, I suppose it's important."

"You're in charge, though, aren't you?" She asks, somewhat pointedly. "They agreed to follow your lead on things, didn't they?"

"Yee—aa—aah." He frowns. "But only in cases of emergency or disputes between villages. Nothing else." He flips through a book, sighs, and puts it back on the shelf. "I'm not even sure if that's a good idea."

She smiles and shakes her head. How does Alan not see what he is? The villages would follow the slightest whim of a legend like him. If he wanted to he could be a king, the first in who-knows-how long. Once again it amazes her how little he seems to care for fame or power.

There does seem to be one thing he cares about, though, and it nearly leads to a fight between him and the Guildmaster. The day a bandit shows up at the Guild asking for someone to help them attack a merchant caravan, Alan slices his head off. It happens so fast, one moment the man is there and the next his headless corpse is tumbling to the floor. Quick, easy painless.

"We're not taking those kinds of quests anymore." He tells them flatly when she, Guildmaster, and Briar confront him about it. "If heroes want to go and be mercenary scum, that's their affair, but we will NOT endorse it."

"Pilgrim, it is not to the Guild to dictate the kind of man that a hero chooses to be!" Guildmaster says. "We offer students a choice. They may choose the darkness or they may choose the light. It is an important freedom that every student deserves."

"It is a freedom that they have whether we give it to them or not." Alan shrugs. "This isn't the only place you can find quests, you know. There are plenty of other places bandits can hire heroes from. But the Guild will not be one of them. I do not approve of such quests and I will not allow them to be posted here."

"Pilgrim, you DO know there was a rebellion in the Guild about this kind of thing just a few decades ago, right?" Briar eyes him worriedly.

"Yeah." Alan nods. "If it gets to be a problem, I'll deal with it. If enough heroes want to go off and slaughter children, I'll step down and that'll be the end of it. But as long as I'm head of the Guild, that's the way things are." He glances over at the Guildmaster. "Is that acceptable?"

Nobody wants to say it, but everyone knows why he asks Guildmaster. He and Maze were the ringleaders of the rebellion forty years ago. Both of them fought hard for a freedom neither needed, the same freedom that Alan is now taking away.

It thrills Whisper with fear that Alan is taking on the Guild like this, but it thrills her with admiration also. The quests have always been a sticking point with him, she knows.

"Is that acceptable to you, sir?" Alan asks again.

Guildmaster sighs. "It is close enough, sir."

The next few days are tense as news spreads around the Guild and the country. Whisper gets anxious and tells Alan to be careful, but he shakes it off. She supposes she shouldn't worry… he's the strongest hero in the land. And most of the heroes don't care much one way or another, really. Those that do, like Alan says, find other means of taking quests. After a while, everything blows over and things return to normal.

Or at least it seems like it. She should have seen the danger signs, really, but by this time they're almost a part of 'normal' life around the Guild. Those strange chills that run down her back at unexpected intervals, the ominous dreams that occur more and more frequently, the inexplicable nervousness she keeps feeling… they've become almost normal. She doesn't ascribe any importance to them. They're just her being silly.

So when it finally hits her what's going on, it's far too late to do anything about it.

It's late at night, and she's the only person left in the Map room. Most of the Heroes are asleep, and even Guildmaster's turned in for the night. But she feels oddly restless, and knows she won't be able to get to sleep.

So it turns out she's there when the front door creaks open and Alan comes in, with a small boy at his hip. He hasn't seen her yet, and apparently is trying to be quiet (though that's not really possible with the armor he's wearing). He looks weary, Whisper notes, and curiously… angry. The boy, for his part, seems to be absolutely bewildered. He's staring about him in a daze, as if not certain of what he's seeing. His clothes are ragged and dirty, he's wearing no shoes, and his hair is… singed?

As Alan turns to hush the boy, Whisper comes out from behind the pillar. "What have you been up to this time, Farmboy?" She asks him.

He swings around at the sound of her voice. "Ah, Whisper." He smiles, a trifle shakily. "Good to see you. I just got back from… from…" He passes a hand over his face and for the first time she realizes how pale he is. "This is a new student." He says suddenly, indicating the boy. "He'll be joining our training sessions. Put him upstairs, with… with… the one girl. River."

"River?" Whisper glances over the boy. Scrawny, and apparently in shock. Not exactly hero material, but Alan usually knows what he's doing. "If you say so. This way, child." She offers her hand to the boy, who shrinks away.

"Follow her, Matt." Alan nods to the boy. The boy glances up at him uncertainly before following her up the stairs.

It only takes a few moments to install him in his new quarters, as he's clearly exhausted and falls into bed right away. River doesn't wake up during the whole ordeal, she's quite the sound sleeper. But there's something odd about the whole thing, especially about Alan, so Whisper goes to see him.

She finds him in Maze's old quarters with his upper armor removed and an enormous gash running across his back. He's got a piece of twine and a needle and is apparently trying to use the mirror so he can examine the cut.

"What do you think you're doing?" Whisper grabs the twine from his hands. "You think you're going to sew that up yourself?"

"I can do it." He glares at her. "I've done it enough times on the trail."

"I can see that." She eyes the hundreds of scars crisscrossing his back, many of them horribly scabbed over. The signs of Alan's atrocious surgery is quite evident. "But you're not on the trail now, and you're not going to do it THAT way. Now. Turn around and I'll get some things ready."

He grumbles and turns, while she warms up a bowl of water and picks some bandages out of a nearby desk drawer. These are Alan's additions—Maze used magic shielding too often to receive damage. "In the first place, you don't use twine for these sorts of things, you use catgut." She admonishes him. "And you need to clean the wound, or else it may get infected. Magic potions don't fix everything, you know."

"Obviously." He grimaces. "This is one of them."

She snorts and dips a rag into the warm water, wringing it out and then using it to sponge away the dirt, sweat, and blood around the cut. Distantly, it occurs to her that this situation could be mildly embarrassing—A shirtless Alan leaning over the headrest of his chair, wincing as she sponges away at his bare back with a rag. But in the Guild, medical care like this is far too common to spend many blushes over. Whisper has done this many times, for many heroes. Just not Alan.

"Where's this one from?" She asks after several minutes of silent sponging.

He grunts. "Don't know his name. Big bandit, big axe. Came at me from my blind spot while I was fighting the others. Hurt like anything, had to use Force Push just to get them off me for a second."

"You're getting better at Will." She wrings the rag clean and picks up the needle, threaded with catgut. "Where was this? On the way back?"

A slight pause. "No. It was…" He hisses sharply as he feels the prick. "… Barrow Fields."

"Barrow Fields?" Frowning, Whisper draws back for a moment. "That's a trader settlement, why would you be fighting…" Suddenly realization sweeps in on her. "…oh no."

"I got there too late to stop it." He says, his voice weary. "The whole place was in flames by the time I arrived, and the traders and guards were all dead. Just the bandits, standing around and laughing and dealing out the beer they had found." His face contorts in a snarl. "And Avatar, arguing with the leader about his cut of the loot."

"Avatar?" The Will user had been early tagged by her and Briar as a problematic one, and had been the most vocal in opposition to Alan's new policy, but Whisper would never have thought he'd be capable of massacre. "He was helping them?"

Alan doesn't answer, and Whisper decides not to ask any more questions. The bloodstains on his sword speak for themselves. After she's done here, she'll have to make a notation in the hero roll about Avatar's death and talk to Guildmaster about what to tell his family. Avatar was an incredibly powerful sorcerer, just last year he had been proclaimed Arena champion. Alan's lucky to have come out of this with only a big gash. As she bends again to her stitching, she notices her fingers are trembling. She closes her eyes and takes a few breaths to calm herself.

The two remain in silence for a moment, except for the occasional hiss and wince from Alan as Whisper stitches the wound shut. "That boy was the only survivor." He says finally. "Hid under a few sacks of wheat… didn't come out even after they caught fire. Finally passed out. Found him while I was putting out the fire."

Whisper doesn't say anything for a moment. Then: "Is he going to stay here, Alan? Life at the Guild isn't easy. He may not be cut out for it."

"He'll do fine." From his voice, she can tell he's smiling. "Funny thing, actually. You remember that one quest where I had to rescue the kid from the Hobbes? Same kid."

"You're kidding." Whisper draws back a moment and looks at him.

"No." Alan turns his head and grins at her. "Turns out he ran from his grandma and took up work helping the traders there. Lived there ever since, until…" His face darkens and he turns away. "He'll do fine, Whisper. He's a survivor."

Whisper nods her head, but makes a private note to check up on the boy from time to time. Again there's a short silence. "There." She says, tying off the last knot on the stitches. "Now just wrap a few bandages around that, and it should heal up fine."

She stands up and prepares to leave, but Alan's hand shoots out and stops her. "Whisper… thanks." He smiles at her bewildered face. "Thanks for taking care of me. And for… everything, really. You've been a real help this past month or so, just by being around the Guild. I'm not sure if I could have gotten through without you."

She stares at him.

"Well… y'know." He shrugs. "If it wasn't for you, I'd still be sitting on a dock in Oakvale, without any real idea of what to do with myself. But even just in work around the Guild, you've been a big help with getting people to do things, keeping them in line, and just letting me know about all sorts of little details around the Guild." Smiling again, he gently let go of her shoulder, allowing his fingers to linger just a moment on her skin. "So thanks."

Whisper's head is whirling. It's true, she knows that, the things he's saying are all true and logical. She knows, indeed, has known for some time, that her work around the Guild is a key element to Alan's success. Without her, it probably would have been much more difficult for Alan to gain such complete control. It's all true, and there's nothing strange about Alan recognizing it.

But for some reason it feels strange. For some reason these few words from him set her heart racing, her mind whirling, and her every nerve flaming with strange sensations.

With difficulty she swallows. "Make sure you rest." She says. "The wound'll rip open otherwise."

And then she runs. She has to, she can't stay another moment in that room with Alan, not with all those feelings rushing through her. She runs, and she doesn't stop running until she's safe in her room on the other side of the Guild. Only then does she stop, and only then, then, that she realizes the disaster that's been looming over her this whole time.

She loves him. Avo help her, she loves him, and she can't tell if she always has or whether it's come on so slowly that she just hasn't noticed till now, but she loves him. She's been trying to tell herself that she came back to Albion to return a favor, that she stayed on because the Guild needed her. But that's not true, and now she knows it.

No, she came back because she loved him, she stayed because she loved him, and her staying here so long has only made it worse.

And that's a disaster. Because Whisper can't… she can't… be involved like this. Least of all with the head of the entire Guild. She can't be involved, because she can't stay. Albion isn't her home, she knows. So she can't stay in Albion, not even if she is hopelessly in love with the greatest hero since Nostro. And Alan can't leave Albion, simply because he IS the greatest hero since Nostro. Albion needs him, and if he were to leave it would fall apart.

Whisper can't stay. Alan can't leave. And yet she cannot survive apart from him.

But no. That is false, and Whisper knows it is false. She can survive without him, she must be able to survive. She has done so before, she can do so again. It will be hard, it will be cruel, it will tear her soul apart to leave him, but she will learn to live with the pain. Perhaps she may even forget. Certainly, out in the wild, there will be many places to lose—or find—herself.

The longer she stays here, however, the more difficult it will be to leave.

Quickly Whisper gathers her things from her room. They are not many—Whisper travels as much as any of the heroes, and all her belongings can fit into one knapsack. She packs in an extra health potion and some provisions she keeps stashed around the house. Then she shoulders her pack, grabs her spear, and makes for the door.

On the road outside of the Guild, she looks back. In the gathering darkness, she can just see the light from Alan's room.

A soft tear makes its way down her cheek.

**to be continued...**

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**A/N:** Review! Send reviews unto me, all ye who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Review not and ye shall not be reviewed, for in the manner in which ye review shall again be reviewed unto you! Review unto others as you would have others review unto you!

See? Reviewing is really a good thing to do. Honest.

So. This is probably not the disaster most of you were anticipating, but at the same time, you had to know this was going to pop up at some point in this story. It's practically required that the two main characters fall in love. At the same time, Whisper strikes me as the person who wouldn't take this sitting down. Even with the rationalization offered here, I feel like she'd run just because she wouldn't know how to deal with it.

A few explanations here. I thought it kinda interesting to speculate about what day-to-day life would be like around the Guild. What would Alan be doing as leader of the Guild, how exactly would he lead? In the game, you're always just a big thug who hits stuff (or a wizard who blows stuff up, or...). What kinda inspiring figure would he have to be? I tried to give a sense of Alan coming into his own here.

Another thing. It always struck me as wierd that the Heroes Guild took evil quests. Some of them I can understand--how do you know who is right and who is wrong?--but a mission like Barrow Fields? Slaughter everybody? Who was the idiot who let them post that up? And then I find out Guildmaster was one of the ones behind a REVOLT to ALLOW them to do that sort of thing? My estimation of Guildmaster dipped about 40+ points when I heard that.

Anyway. Next Chapter: Too little, too late.


	22. Wandering Whispers

**Wandering Whispers**

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For some reason she doesn't leave Albion. She should, probably, but she doesn't, because she can't think of where she would go. Even in Albion, she's not sure where to go. So she just wanders, going on from town to town, taking on small jobs wherever she can. A few times she even stops by the Arena and uses a false name to get in. It's just for the cash, though. She stops once she has enough and then she leaves.

In a way it's interesting. She never knew there was so much to Albion. For someone who used to use her Guild Seal to teleport all over the place, it's very interesting to go off road at times and just look around. She even amuses herself for a week or so by trying to follow Theresa's trail… it goes off into the mountains and then largely disappears.

It's just an amusement, though. She has no real reason to see Theresa, anymore than she has a reason to go down to Bargate Prison and clean out the few remaining mercenaries there. She only wants to forget, how exactly she manages that doesn't make much difference to her.

Except that's the problem. Because she doesn't care HOW she forgets, she can't. Wandering aimlessly around isn't really the best way to forget the days she spent in the Guild, working to unite the land and help people all around the world. Spending hours by yourself in the woods doesn't help you to blot out memories of working with so many different people, especially one particular person who could make any job worthwhile simply by being there and…

Stop. This isn't helping.

The sensible thing to do, of course, would be to go to some out-of-the-way village or country and start a new life, like what she did in Samarkand. Sure, it wasn't perfect there, but it WAS enough to make her forget her old life in Albion. If she just stopped in one of these towns, she could probably have a good career as a warrior—maybe even a chief. She could start a new life in one of these towns.

Except she can't. It's strange, but every time she walks into a town, she knows she'll be walking out the next day. Heck, every day she wakes up she feels as if she needs to leave for… wherever she's leaving for. No matter where she is, she wakes up with the impression that it's the worst place in the world to be. As if there's something lacking in this place that surely, the next place will have. In a way, it's like her old feeling of not-belonging, but now sharper, more acute. She no longer has to wait a week in a town to know she doesn't belong there. She knows it the second she walks into the town.

Why is that, she wonders. What makes this feeling so much more different than that old feeling of homelessness?

And when did it become 'that old feeling?'

It's a bit much for Whisper to figure out by herself, so after a while she gives it up. Instead, she decides to track down Thunder. It's been a long while since she and her brother spoke, and she feels the need to speak with someone from the old days.

The problem is, no one's seen Thunder since Alan returned to the Guild. And no one seems to be interested, either. If Whisper asks anyone if they've seen Thunder, the usual response is: "Who?" or: "I didn't know he was still around." Thunder's reputation seems to have disappeared along with the rest of him. Not for the first time, Whisper marvels at how quickly a hero's renown can rise and fall.

She picks up the trail by Windmill Hill, though, and finally finds him in Lychfield Graveyard. She's not sure why he's there—the undead are no problem anymore—but she's so glad to see him it doesn't matter.

"Whisper!" He laughs a deep throaty laugh as he folds her in a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you." She smiles up at him. "I hadn't heard from you in a while, so I thought I'd look you up to see how you were doing."

"Oh, I am well." He laughs again. "Quite well. Not as busy as I used to be, perhaps, but well. Your Guild makes things so safe, it is hard to find someone who needs my help!" He laughs again. "But no matter. I am well. And you, sister?"

"I am well also." Whisper answers. "I am glad to hear that you are doing well, my brother. You look it." Yet even as she says this, she knows it's no more true of him than it is of her. Her brother's face is slightly hollowed, and his eyes have a bitter tinge to them. There are lines around his face that were not there two years ago, and even his laugh seems somewhat strained. He looks as bad as Whisper feels.

Shaking her head, she seeks to drive away the thoughts with a simple question. "Why are you in Lychfield, brother?"

Her brother freezes. "Oh… I am traveling about. Seeing the land, meeting up with old friends… Such things. I am resting. Taking a vacation, you might say. As I told you, business is slow, and I must take advantage of it as best I can."

"You should go to the Guild." She tells him. "They have many quests, and it would be simple for you to go in and accept one. Walking about is not the only way to find quests, you know."

Thunder bites his lip. "Well, yes… that is true." He answers evasively. "But I… I cannot stay at the Guild for long. I do not feel comfortable there."

"Why is that?" Though she thinks she knows part of the reason, Whisper cannot believe Thunder's grudge against Alan would be THAT bad.

"It is… difficult to explain." Her brother looks off into the sky and sighs. "I cannot… I must be careful with other heroes. There are… dangers."

Now Whisper is really puzzled. "What kind of…"

"Thunder." A new voice butts in on their conversation. "Thunder dear."

Whisper looks over at the newcomer, a curiously arrogant peasant woman who comes walking up to the two of them. He clothes are dirty and ragged, and Whisper's sure she can smell whiskey on the woman's breath. Her golden-red hair is dirty and matted, and a pair of clear grey eyes look out dazedly at the world. But despite all of that, it's easy to see she must have once been very beautiful.

"Thunder dear." She says again, rolling her eyes at the word. "I don't mean to break up your little family reunion, but did you bring my money or didn't you?"

"Yes, milady." Turning around, Whisper nearly gasps in shock at the sight of her brother kneeling before this rude, low woman. His hand goes to his belt and he hands her a large purse. "Here you are. This is all I was able to gather."

The woman snatches the satchel and flips it open. "This? This was ALL you were able to gather?" With a scream she hurls it into his face. "Lazy incompetent dog! What do you expect me to do with this? This cannot be all you found. You must have more. Give me the rest! Or did you spend it on your way here?"

"My lady, I swear to you, this is all." Her brother pleads. There's a bruise forming on his cheek where the purse struck him, but he does not move. "There are few now who will hire me, they cannot…"

"I will not hear it!" The woman interrupts him, turning away. "Return when you have a more reasonable sum. If no one will hire you, you will have to get it some other way. I care not how it is done, so long as it is done quickly."

"But milady…"

"Silence fool! I shall speak with you no further!" And with that she stalks away toward the darkness of the graveyard.

Whisper's eyes move from the lady's retreating form to her brother, who is picking coins up from the ground. "She shall return." He tells her with a somewhat grim smile. "A few moments reflection will remind her that however little gold it is, it is still gold, and she will return to claim it."

"Brother." Whisper breathes. "That was…"

"Lady Grey. Yes indeed." Thunder sighs. "This is where she resides, now that Bowerstone and Oakvale have thrown her out. The crypts shelter her from wind and rain, and the undead do not bother her. I have often offered to bring her to more suitable lodgings, but she has spurned me each time." He sighs again. "Still, I help her as I am able."

"Brother…" Whisper had heard the rumors about her brother helping Lady Grey, and had in part believed them; but she had not pictured anything like this. "You are helping her? But after all she has done… and what she still does!? How can you…"

"How can I not?" He bursts out. "I love her. Money-hungry, backstabbing witch that she is, I love her, and my heart will not let it alone. I have tried, Whisper, oh I have tried, but it will not do. I cannot live without her, no matter how I pretend otherwise. To be apart from her is to be greater torture than to be with her." He shakes his head. "No Whisper. I must help her. It is my place."

The event burns itself into Whisper's memory and haunts her all the way back the trail to Bowerstone. She supposes she should tell the Guild—Lady Grey has been on their bounty list for the better part of two years now—but she cannot bring herself to do it. Her brother's face was so desperate. And though every part of her revolts at her brother's situation, there is a part of it, just a tiny part, that rings true for her.

No matter how hard she tries, she still loves Alan. All her pretense these past few months hasn't done anything to change that, because her heart simply will not let her forget it. And now she realizes why.

Her place, too, is with Alan. During those days she spent with him at the Guild, she felt comfortable. Purposeful. Almost… as if she were at home. And it's the memory of that feeling that's kept her from settling down anywhere else, because Alan is not there. It is, certainly, greater torture to be apart from Alan than it is to be with him. Certainly it is in comparison to her brother.

With this thought in her mind, she returns to the Guild. The place is in a strange uproar when she arrives, everyone is running around talking about 'Summoners.' When she finally seeks out the Guildmaster, he seems a little confused.

"Ah… Alan? Yes… Alan… he's in Hook Coast. Are you going to help him?"

The question disconcerts Whisper, and she jumps into the Cullis gate without further comment. But she can't help wondering what kind of thing Alan would need help with.

When she arrives at Hook Coast, the answer is all too clear.

Enormous, armored specters are lumbering about the shore, flanked by minions. Lances of dark energy shoot from their hands, and explosions erupt from the beach. All of them seem to be attacking the Hook Coast lighthouse. And there, in the thick of them, are Alan and Briar, fighting for their very lives.

Whipping out her spear, Whisper charges into the battle. She manages to catch one by surprise, but the advantage is only momentary, and not nearly enough. The creature proves frighteningly resistant to blows, and Whisper takes quite a few hits. Finally, though, it falls to its knees in defeat.

Whisper just manages one smile of triumph before the creature explodes and sends her flying.

She lands on the ground heavily, her breath coming in short gasps. Whatever that explosion was, it seems to have hit her pretty badly. Pain lances through every vein in her body. She can't move her arms and her feet won't respond. The only thing she can do is stare up at the Minion she crashed into and watch him raise his weapon…

A sword smashes through the middle of his helmet and the minion disappears in a puff of smoke. Briar grins down at her. "That should be the last of them. Need to watch them when they keel over like that." She says. "Those pulse explosions are nasty. "

Alan, standing beside Briar, is not nearly so jovial. "Whisper?" His face contorts in confusion. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Opening her mouth, Whisper tries to speak, but finds she cannot. The electricity is still playing with her nerves, and she cannot move.

"Best to let her rest a while." Briar warns. "Looks like that blast hit her hard."

Ignoring the scholar's warning, Alan presses the issue. "Where have you been? None of the heroes could tell me where you ran off to. Guildmaster didn't even know."

"I…" Whisper manages to articulate a word. "I… sorry… I had to… figure some things out…"

Alan's face is a study in bewilderment. "Like what?"

Just over his shoulder, Whisper sees Briar roll her eyes in frustration. With a wink at Whisper, she moves away from the two of them.

"Just some things." Whisper responds, inwardly grateful for Briar's gesture. "I… didn't know what to do at the Guild. I… just some girl things." She tries a smile to diffuse the situation. "But that's all over now. I'm back."

"No kidding." He grumbles, kneeling beside her to check her vitals. "What on earth prompted you to come here, of all places? Didn't you know about the Summoners?"

She blinks. "Summoners?"

"I guess not." He gives a little grin. "Understandable. We didn't know they were going to show up until a few minutes ago. But still. What on earth made you want to come all the way out here?"

"I wanted to see you." She responds. Feeling is coming back into her fingers, and she feels a little uncomfortable lying there with Alan leaning over her, but she doesn't dare stir. "I needed to talk to you about… well about…"

It's a funny thing, but even though Whisper's been planning out exactly what to say for the whole trip here, she still balks at carrying it out. And it doesn't really help that Alan's staring at her with such a puzzled expression on his face, as if he can't imagine what it is. She needs to take a moment to think this through.

Apparently she takes too many. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter so much." Alan shrugs. "I'm not too worried about how you got here, so long as you're back." His gaze softens a bit as he looks at her. "It's been a real mess taking care of the Guild without you, Whisper. Not quite sure how things have kept together."

He stands up and gives her his hand, pulling to her feet. "Easy now." He says, supporting her. She doesn't quite have feeling back in her feet yet. "There. You are staying now, aren't you? Or are you just going to up and leave again?"

"No." She smiles at him. "This time, I think I'm staying."

"That's good." He smiles back. "I'm not sure if I could keep going there without you."

She bites her lip and looks at him sideways. "I don't know if I could either."

He's just opening his mouth to ask her what she means by that when suddenly there's a loud rumbling from the shore.

The two of them turn to see a rotting mass of a ship heave itself from beneath the waves. There's an odd greenish light around it, and little patches of fog seem to be moving about on the deck. "Looks like your ride's here." Briar says as she walks up to them. "Looks… cozy."

"That it does." Alan nods, looking over the ship. "Guess I'd better get going."

"Going? Going where?" Whisper asks.

"Off to see Scythe." Glancing over, Alan tells her. "He says there's some trouble over by him. I need to look into it."

"Remember, once you get there, your seal should activate the Cullis Gates in the region."

Scythe… Whisper's heard the name, but she cannot remember where the man lives. Why aren't the Cullis gates working there?

"Right." Alan shoulders his sword. "Whisper, keep an eye on the Guild while I'm gone, okay?"

The statement strikes her as odd, but she nods anyway. "It'll be just like you left it."

He laughs a little. "I hope not. It's kinda a mess. Anyway." He nods to her, to Briar. "No sense in putting it off any longer." He walks out on the dock and steps onto the ghostly boat. "Take care of yourselves, ladies." He waves, and the boat moves away from the dock, off into the deep fog of the ocean. Whisper stares after it until she's lost even the shadow.

"We should get back." Briar gently reminds her. "The Guildmaster will be needing us."

"Right." Whisper responds with an effort. She turns with Briar and begins to walk back toward the Cullis gate. It reminds her of what Briar said earlier. "Say, why don't the gates work where Scythe is?"

"Because no hero's been there for years." Comes her answer. "The Northern Wastes haven't been open since Scythe went there."

"The Northern Wastes?" Whisper freezes in her tracks.

"Yeah." Turning, Briar throws her a sympathetic look. "It's a good distance. Might take him a few months just to get there."

**to be continued...**

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**A/N:** READ! REVIEW! Or rather, since you've gone through the trouble of reading it already, why not review? It won't take long, and it'll be fun, I promise. Just two words will do. Something like "It sucks" or "It's great." Granted, I'd like more, but just those two words will add joy and color to my life. So review!

Just to be clear, I actually have no idea how long it takes Alan to reach the Northern Wastes. I just figured since he has a full beard when he arrives, it must've been a while. The original draft of this chapter had him staying away for a year, but I decided that was unrealistic.

I'm not actually sure about this chapter so much. Thunder in his new relationship with Lady Grey was kinda difficult, and then when Whisper meets up with Alan again I was trying not too make it too sentimental (neither one strike me as that kind), nor too explicit. It works well enough, but I'm not sure. Guess we'll see with time I suppose.

Next time: Waiting Whisper.


	23. Confidential Whispers

**Confidential Whispers**

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Those "few months" that Briar mentioned turn out to be three, and they're the worst three months Whisper has ever known. Every day she's reproaching herself for not speaking to Alan earlier or for not stopping him on the dock to make him hear what she had to say. Every night she wonders what he's doing and if he's safe. Sometimes she even wonders if she'll ever have the chance to tell him (though that's usually when the rational part of her brain kicks in and tells her she's paranoid). Every day these thoughts fill her mind.

Which is too bad, because it's the worst possible time to be distracted. Alan placed her in charge of the Guild, after all, and it doesn't take her long to realize exactly how awful that is. The Summoner attack on Hook Coast turns out to have only been the beginning. Soon more of the terrible creatures are popping up all over Albion, leaving pain and destruction in their wake. Whisper scrambles to send out teams to danger spots and have other teams standing by to go wherever else they're needed. It's somewhat new—the Guild usually isn't this organized unless there's an emergency—but after a few fights with the Summoners the heroes realize how important it is.

Briar can still be sent out on her own, of course, and Thunder, with his invulnerability to lightning, is especially helpful when she can find him. But more and more often Whisper has to go out herself to handle especially nasty cases.

And all this time, her mind is nagging her. Does Alan know? Is he alright? Will I ever have a chance again?

Things don't get much better when Alan finally returns, mostly because she doesn't have a chance to see him. When the gates in the Northern Wastes go active and Alan returns to the Guild, she's asleep in the sick ward, recovering from a particularly nasty bout with a Summoner. Guildmaster tells her that he came in to look at her and that he looked concerned, but that he needed to hurry and couldn't stay to help.

Unfortunately, that becomes more and more of a trend. Alan spends most of the coming days exploring the Necropolis for Runes, and on the rare days when he DOES return to the Guild to sleep, he looks so haunted and weary that Whisper, anxious as she is, can't bear to stop him. When he later comes back with the news from the Oracle—that Jack of Blades has returned and is behind the rise of the Summoners—everyone is too shocked and alarmed for her to try to talk to him then. And anyway, it's not the proper time. With such a revelation, it's obvious they need to move as quickly as possible, there simply isn't time to stop Alan and talk to him about things like love.

So Whisper shrugs it off and continues to fight and administer as best she can, trying not to fret about being unable to meet with Alan and trying not to feel jealous of Briar for spending so much time with Alan. It's only right that the Guild's best scholar help Alan with the Runes, after all. It's dreadfully important. So she tries not to be jealous and she tries not to feel slighted.

This finally comes to an end one day. She's sitting in the office trying to manage a new group of urgent quests that have been issued, and all of a sudden a voice breaks into her concentration.

_Whisper, do you know where Thunder is_? Briar's voice echoes in her mind.

Whisper sighs and focuses on the Guild Seal on her belt. _No, I do not._ She responds. _What do you need him for?_

_ Nothing much. Hang on, I'll ask Guildmaster. _The voice goes away and Whisper turns her attention back to her work. A few moments later it's back. _Okay, I got it. Thanks. Let him know Alan's coming down to Knothole Glade to see him, okay?_

_Alan?_ Whisper's brow furrows. _Why does Alan need to see him?_

_Oh, for the inscriptions._ Briar explains. _It turns out we need the souls of three heroes to open the gate, and…_

"WHAT?" Whisper shouts out loud, jumping to her feet.

_…and the first one wants 'The King of the Arena.' The only ones I knew of was him and Thunder,_

_so I thought…_

Whisper is no longer listening. She's on her feet, grabbing for her spear, swinging her sack over one shoulder. Bolting down the stairs, she shoves a novice out of the way and activates the Cullis Gate. Her mind is a whirl. Thunder has fallen out of favor in the Guild, and he and Alan have never gotten along very well, but surely neither Alan or Briar would contemplate killing him… would they?

Though the answer seems obvious, Whisper can't quite convince herself. She hasn't spoken to Alan in quite a while, after all, nor Briar. She knows they've been working furiously to open the Gate so they can stop Jack, she has no idea how desperate they may have become.

She wouldn't think they'd do it. But the suggestion they might is enough to give wings to her feet, and in a few moments she's standing in Knothole Glade. And there, safe and sound, is Thunder.

Strange to say, he does not seem very pleased to see her. But he manages to shake off his gloom long enough to tell her what is going on. Relief fills Whisper as she realizes Alan came to ask Thunder for _information _about the Arena. Distantly, she makes a note to berate Briar on her poor communication abilities.

"Where is Alan now?" She asks.

"Farmboy?" His lip curls. "At the Arena, of course. Trying to obtain the soul of a past champion."

An idea creeps into her mind. "Okay." She nods, and runs for the path.

"Whisper." He calls after her, but for once she does not turn around. An opportunity has presented itself and she will not miss it, for all her brother might say. The arena is close… very close, and Alan cannot have finished there yet. And for some reason it seems incredibly appropriate to meet Alan at the Arena.

For some other reason, when she finds out the place is infested with Balverines, Minions, and Summoners, it seems even more appropriate.

Granted, it's horrific, and as she fights her way in she can't help but gasp at the carnage and ruin. But when she finally breaks into the main arena and finds Alan standing there, battling off two stone trolls, it just seems so _right_ somehow.

Fortunately the trolls haven't noticed her yet, and she dashes up behind one and deals it two enormous slashes before jumping away from its counterattack. How could she have ever thought these were difficult? She leaps in again and gives it a few more hits before it crumbles into dust. Alan must have hit it a few times already, she observes, turning to see him smash the other troll into powder.

He eyes her quizzically. "Whisper?"

Belatedly she realizes how odd the whole thing must seem. "I… was in the area." She shrugs. "Can't let you have all the fun."

"Heh." The corner of his mouth twitches. "Well, suit yourself, I'm not sure what…"

But then Jack's voice blasts over the arena and the sandpit fills with Minions. Further conversation is cut short as Alan and Whisper whirl into position and leap into battle.

And it feels so old. So familiar. Fighting in the arena with Alan, feet digging into the sand and whirling about in pitched battle. She trips and falls, and before the Minion can come down on her, Alan's blade breaks him in two. A sorcerer minion blasts Alan in the back, but Whisper's on him before he can try it again. More Minions appear, now with Balverines. She and Alan duck and weave, whip about and whirl back-to-back. Blades rise and fall in elegant rhythm, and even as the scent of blood fills the air, Whisper can't help thinking to herself. _This is the life_.

How long ago did she last say those words, in this same arena? Two years? Three? Then, they were empty words, spoken to reassure herself. Now, as she fights alongside Alan, they are thoughts that can't stop coming.

The appearance of Summoners interrupts her thoughts, and she and Alan charge forward, Whisper taking one and Alan another. It's a fight she's fought often these past few months. Duck, weave, slash. When they charge, leap back and throw projectiles, then dodge the blast. Whip in towards them, duck, weave, slash. Repeat. When they fall to their knees, jump clear.

She's got it so far down pat, she doesn't think to check for the Minion that dashes up behind her and slices her back open.

Back arching in pain, she falls flat on the sand. She manages to whirl out of the way of the creature's follow-up hit and shoves her spear through his head. He explodes into sulfur and brimstone.

"Nice." Alan's hand appears above her and she takes it gratefully. As he pulls her to her feet, he notes the cut on her back. "Best put something on that."

"How about you?" She comments, pointing at his arm. The armor has been cracked open by a Summoner, and the blood is flowing freely. She smiles at his sheepish grin and pulls out a package of bandages from her satchel. "Here."

"When did you start carrying medical kits?" He asks as she picks the pieces of metal out of the wound and begins to wrap it in gauze.

"My time in Samarkand." She shrugs. Finished with his arm, she cuts the ribbon and starts on herself. "We didn't exactly have many health potions. And this is better for you anyway." Her arms strain as she tries to wrap the bandages around a frightfully hard-to reach portion of the wound.

"Here." Alan grabs hold and begins to finish the wrapping job. "You know, you never told me about that time in Samarkand." He comments. "Or about why you went there. Well, I mean, you did tell me, but I never really… understood, I guess." He looks up at her, a curious light in his eyes. "Why did you leave, Whisper?"

The serious tone of his voice confuses her. He's asking for more than a simple reason.

"Why did you let me?" She whispers back.

She can't really even be sure he's heard her, as there's no change in the expression on his face., just a very intense stare. He's studying her very closely, and Whisper feels nervous somehow.

"I… didn't know what to do with myself." She says at last. "I'd always thought sort of… out of place in Albion. And I didn't know what to do with myself after I lost in the arena. I just… I thought that if… if I got away… I might…" she swallows. "I might find… my home. My purpose. My… whatever I was looking for."

He's still staring at her. For a moment they just stand there in silence, looking at each other.

Finally his mouth opens again. "And why did you come back?"

There's a simple answer to this. Briar told her about the problems at the Guild. But it's not the real answer and she knows it. "Because I didn't find it there. So I came back to see if it was here."

"And? Did you ever find it?"

She nods, slowly. "I think so. I think I did, Alan. It scared me at first when I found it, and I ran away, but it dragged me back. And now… I'm here." She swallows once more. "I'm home."

He's blinking, as if puzzled, but he's also nodding. "You know, I was that way once too, Whisper." He smiles. "I thought my purpose was revenge and my home my family, and then I found it wasn't. And for a time I too, thought of leaving." He leans in closer to her. "But someone stopped me, and told me to try and find it here in Albion."

She's breathing a little too quickly. "And? Did you ever find it?"

"Just now?" Alan smiles again. "I think so."

* * *

**A/N**: It's been so long, I'm sure you all have LOADS to tell me. So write me a review and tell me all about it! REVIEWS! Blessed things.

You guys knew this was coming. Seriously, you had to. It's maybe a little incredible for Alan to fall so quickly, but actually it's been slowly growing on him throughout the story, you just never read his side of it. I was going to put the revelation just before the Bronze Gate, but I thought it'd be cool to be realized in the arena, which was kinda where Whisper had her epiphany.

So yeah. Probably most of you have noticed (or maybe you haven't) that this has been posted substantially later than the other ones. Well, first I must plead occasions of life, and second, I most confess waning interest in the story. Fear not, it WILL be finished, and that soon (within the next month at least), but it's not going to be on its weekly schedule anymore.

Another reason for the late chapter is the difficulty I had with it. I wanted to get through a few things with Whisper, and at the same time I needed to have a union of purpose. And there wasn't really a lot I could do with the Northern Wastes quest, particularly as so little HAPPENS between the Ship of the Drowned and the Arena quest. I ended up rewriting a good deal and summarizing a lot, particularly as I felt last chapter was a little messy. I'm not sure how it turned out, but feel free to let me know.

Anyway. REVIEW!


	24. Whispers of Love

**Whispers of Love**

* * *

"I do not approve of your association with this Farmboy." Thunder tells her a few days later.

Whisper glances at him in surprise. Does he suspect… but no, she's told no one about their talk at the arena. He can't actually know anything, he must just be assuming. So she shrugs and resumes her work around the room. "Whatever do you mean by that?"

"You _know_ what I mean." Thunder glowers from his chair in the corner. "You are constantly working with him, aiding him, taking care of things while he is gone, and doing all number of pointless activities for him!" He gestures around the room. "You are even cleaning his room for him!"

Whisper wrinkles her nose in surprise. "He hardly spends any time in here, brother, you know that. This is more of an office than a room, and I use it as much as Alan."

"Then there is that." He interrupts her. "Always 'Alan.' You are always calling him Alan. Not Farmboy. Not Pilgrim. Not even Paladin, as so many fools these days do. Always Alan."

"It's his name."

"There is more in it than that and you know it." She can feel Thunder's frown on her back. "This cannot go on, Whisper. People will begin to talk. Some have already begun to do so."

"They have?" Whisper is not sure whether to feel flattered or disgusted. She can guess what the rumors say. "You have nothing to fear on that account, brother." She says, turning to look him in the eyes. "I am as unstained as when my mother bore me."

Thunder's gaze relaxes, but only a little. "The danger is still there, sister. It is not wise for you to work so closely with him, I do not like it."

"And why not?" She says, turning on her brother a little fiercely. She knows, deep down, that her brother cannot help himself, that he is simply trying to protect her, but his warning tone is grating on her nerves. As is his complete dismissal and dislike of Alan. "What do you have against Alan? He is the noblest and greatest hero in Albion, the head of the Guild, and a fine warrior! He has saved Albion itself once already and has brought it back from chaotic destruction, he is a good man and a true one! What do you have against him that makes you so disapproving of… of… him?"

A deathly pale creeps over Thunder's face. "Oh Avo…" He sinks his head in his hands. "I am already too late."

Whisper's hands fly to her mouth, realizing too late how much she has said.

"How long, oh my sister, have you hidden this from me?" He speaks down to the floor.

Whisper has not the heart to lie. "I have only known it myself these past four months." She answers.

"And he? Does he know?"

"Yes." She admits. "As of two days ago."

"Two days. The Arena." He mutters. "I knew… I knew! I knew I should have… when I saw you… I tried to stop you but… Oh Avo…"

"Brother, he is an honorable man." She tries to comfort him.

She only gets a snort in reply. "Milady Grey was an honorable woman. What is honor in these days? Any hero may pretend to be saintly at the Guild, but who knows what deeds a man commits upon the road? How can…"

"He is an honorable man!" She shouts down at him. "All the people love him, why not I? If he will have me, why not…"

"Will he?" Thunder's head rears up from his hands, eyes burning. "Has he told you so, Whisper, do you know it for certain? And even if he has, how can you be sure?"

Whisper starts back a little at the expression in her brother's eyes. It is true, she admits, that Alan did not exactly _say_ he loved her. But surely… what he did say… and the way he said it… And Alan is an honorable man, a man of his word, he would not…

"Sister, you are a fine woman, but you do not know the lies of men." Her brother shakes his head at her mournfully. "The tales I have heard from Champions in the drinking hall… many heroes have sweethearts in every town. Some even have several wives and go from one to another, never remaining long with any of them."

Unbidden, Alan's old nickname _Pilgrim_ comes to mind. They called him that because he never settled down in one place.

Thunder continues. "When a man says _love_, he does not always mean what you women mean. Sometimes he means joy, sometimes he means excitement, sometimes he means nothing at all. Can you be sure that…"

"And who are you to talk to me about love?!" Whisper shouts back at him in frustration. "To caution me so? Take your words and apply them to yourself, perhaps they will do some good there!!"

Thunder starts back as if stricken. Whisper, again realizing too late what she has said, hides her face in her hands and begins to sob. For a long moment neither of them speak.

Finally Thunder replies, in a slow, pained voice. "I only wish to spare you from my own torment, sister." He says. "The maimed hand may not heal, but it may at least warn others away."

Whisper, still sobbing, can only nod.

Sighing, Thunder stands to his feet. He crosses the room over to her and enfolds her in an enormous embrace. Whisper grips him firmly around the middle and sobs into his chest. For a while they remain that way, and then Thunder pulls back to look at her.

"Whisper." He says. "Are you sure about this?"

She nods, wordlessly.

"Can nothing be done?"

She shakes her head.

He sighs. "He is a strong man, Whisper, and he will want to have his own way. You have always been so independent. I had thought you were meant for other things."

"So had I." She manages a smile. "But I was wrong."

Remarkably, he smiles back and pulls her in for another hug. "As Avo wills then." He whispers. "May he grant you better grace than I, and may the two of you find joy in each other."

He walks out the door, and Whisper somehow feels she will never see him again.

* * *

Whisper is on edge for the rest of the day. Try as she might, she cannot get her brother's words from her head. Since that night at the arena, she has been walking around in a kind of happy daze, and more than one hero has looked at her strangely. Briar even made a few comments about her head "being in the clouds" or something to that affect. But now her brother's words have brought her happy world crashing around her, and the questions keep racing through her mind. _Does he? Is he? Can I?_

Everything seems so uncertain all of a sudden. Thinking back, Alan's words were perfectly innocent, and might have meant something completely different than what she thought they did. After all, she has not even seen him since the arena. Oh, it's perfectly understandable—Briar and he are rushing as fast as they can to open the Bronze Gate, after all—but looking back it seems odd that he would _never _visit her. Especially when he has been spending so much time around Briar.

She tries to shake the jealous thoughts from her head and concentrate, but without success. Fortunately, there is not much that requires her attention, as things have been oddly quiet recently. Guildmaster thinks Jack is gathering all his power to form more quickly, Briar thinks he might be fixating on Alan's quests and not just rampaging anymore, but it's impossible to be certain. It's a good thing, though, because even with the small amount of work there is, Whisper can just barely focus enough to do it. If she could only stop…

"Miss Whisper!" A frightened apprentice is tugging at her arm, and she comes to with a start. "Miss Whisper! What are we going to do?"

Whisper frowns in irritation at the boy. "What on earth do you mean?"

Before he can answer, five or six more apprentices come hurrying in, nearly carrying Guildmaster. "Talk to him, Miss Whisper, tell him to go! He's got to, we can't just do things without him!"

"Oh, come now Whisper, surely you must see?" The Guildmaster appeals to her. "It's a bad business, yes, but if there is no other way, well, that's that."

"Don't say that!" All the apprentices cry out at once. "Miss Whisper, talk to him!"

"Hold on!" Shouts Whisper in an effort to regain sanity. "What is going on here?"

The apprentices look at each other. "You mean you don't know?" They ask.

"Briar called in on the Guild Seal a little while ago." Guildmaster sighs. "Apparently the Bronze Gate requires my soul to activate it. Some of the scholars downstairs are looking into it to see if there's an alternative but if that's what we need to defeat Jack, well…" He shrugs.

"Don't say that!" Shriek the apprentices again.

"One moment." Whisper stops them. "It asked for you specifically?"

"No, it just specified 'the oldest soul.' But after Maze…"

Whisper shakes her head in exasperation. "Guildmaster, there are plenty of old souls in the world, and I doubt yours is the oldest. Now." She jumps up from the desk, grateful for a distraction, and grabs hold of the old man's arm. "Get down to the Guild Woods and barricade yourself in there. I'm not worried about Alan, but I don't want one of our gung-ho rookies trying to save the world by killing you or anything. You!" She points to one of the apprentices. "Go and signal the guards and have them put a watch on the woods. Let no one in or out except myself and Guildmaster. Now come along, you." She adds, pulling the old man along. "You're not sacrificing yourself for anything, I highly doubt yours is the only soul they can use."

"But they heard from Jack himself…"

"All the more reason to doubt it." She rolls her eyes.

Whisper gets Guildmaster to the wood safe and sound and remains there until the guards show up. "We'll keep him safe, missus." The captain nods to her. "If that Paladin man wants him, he'll have to go through us first."

The devotion of those men frightens her sometimes, she reflects as she heads back to the Guild. They have to know it would be suicide to try and stop Alan, and yet they're ready to try. She shakes her head of the thought and quickens her pace. Alan isn't the problem anyway. He wouldn't be stupid enough for a trick like that. Still, she should get in to talk some sense…

"Miss Whisper, miss whisper!" An apprentice comes running from the hall. "We found it! We found it! We don't have to kill Guildmaster after all!"

"Of course we don't." Whisper frowns at the man, than takes a look at the book he's holding. "Nostro, hm? Well, when Al—Paladin gets here, I'll tell him about…"

"Oh, we already did!" The apprentice nods at Whisper's disbelieving stare. "Yeah, he had just come in from the Cullis Gate when we found it out, and Shadow ran over there and told him, and he ran back out!"

Makes sense, Whisper tells herself numbly. He has to hurry, if Jack can talk to them he must nearly be out. The quicker the better. And really, he wouldn't have been able to talk to her, she was in the woods at the time. But couldn't he have at least TRIED to say hello?

* * *

Whisper never is exactly sure how she ends up in Oatsvale (Oakvale, she reminds herself distantly), or how she gets down to the end of the dock. She just remembers sitting there idly, watching the sky sink in the sky and slowly turn the waters red.

There's no reason to sulk like this, she reflects. It's perfectly reasonable, what Alan's doing. He needs to hurry. If Jack ever got out again, the whole world might be in danger. In fact, it would be incredibly reckless of him to stop and make a special stop for his girlfriend.

But that's what bugs her. IS she his girlfriend? Or is she just a close friend? Or even just a good administrator? She thought, two nights ago… Oh, she thought… it seemed so _obvious_ then, but now… And even if it _is_ a little reckless for him to stop, shouldn't he anyway? Love makes you do reckless things, or so she's heard. So…

But of course, it's stupid of her to demand reckless action. Or expect it. That's who Alan is, he stays on job he doesn't do stupid reckless things just to gratify stupid, reckless girls who might possibly have misinterpreted or even…

"Hey."

That… no. How would he even… She turns slowly.

There on the dock, in all his gleaming armor, is Alan. His helmet is off and he's giving her an odd sort of smile.

In a heartbeat, she's on her feet. "Alan… what are you…" She swallows. "Don't you need to… collect… the soul?"

"Already did." He nods, a little awkwardly. "It… Nostro didn't put up much of a fight. He knew it was for a good cause. He was a hero once too, so…"

"Makes sense." Whisper agrees, supplying the silence. "I can… yeah…"

There's a short pause. "So… you've… just got to put that soul in the Gate then?"

"Yeah." He nods again, and swallows. "Just put it into the Gate, and then go in and beat up ol'Jack." He tries a nervous kind of smile. "Shouldn't be too hard."

"Well… you've… done it before." She nods in agreement, glancing away a moment. "It shouldn't be… yeah…"

Another pause, this one longer, as they just stand and look at each other. Finally Alan swallows. "Look," he says, stepping towards her. "We don't… really know what Jack's gonna be like in there, but… it could be pretty nasty. I'm not… sure I'll be coming back out…"

"Don't say that." She says quickly, realizing what this is. "You'll beat him, you know you will."

"Sure, sure." He shakes his head. "But… just… in case, y'know. I wanted to see you. Just once more. And…" he hesitates. "I wanted to talk to you. Because there was something I forgot to say earlier."

"Oh?" She's not sure when she stepped towards him, she just knows that she's suddenly inches away, and her breath is steaming the armor. "And what was that?"

He looks directly down into her eyes. "That I love you."

And just like that, he kisses her.

* * *

**A/N:**Hey, guess what, I lied! A fast update! Say, since I was so nice as to waste an inordinate amount of time and get this to you so quickly, maybe you could waste a much smaller amount of time and drop me a note to tell me what you think of this chapter? Especially the beginning and the end. I'm NO good at talking to girls and I have absolutely no experience in confessions of love, so I don't know if this came off well or not. And as for the beginning, well... I'm happy with it, because that's how I usually write, but I know it tends to be stilted and awkward, so I'm interested in how it seemed to you guys.

So. Just one more chapter, which is more or less an epilogue. This chapter wraps most of the loose ends up, and brings things right up to the final battle. I don't think I need to tell you whether Alan lives or dies, it's kinda obvious. The last chapter is kinda short, so it should be up on schedule.


	25. Whispers of Home

**Whispers of Home**

* * *

The next day, Jack of Blades is dead forever, and his mask destroyed. The next week, Alan asks Whisper a rather important question. The next month, the two of them stand outside a newly-bought home.

"You want to live here?" Whisper almost giggles (she's been doing that a lot recently). "Oakvale? Seriously?"

Smiling back at her, he gives a little shrug. "It's where I grew up. Same house, actually. For some reason no one's really bought it, and when I was looking for a place for us to live, well…"

"This was your home?" She looks at the house with new respect, taking in the crumbling roof and cracked windows."

"Oh yeah." A touch of sadness is mixed in the fond tone of his voice. "My sister and I used to live here, years ago, with my father. Well, my mother too, but she wasn't always home."

She grins broadly, leaning into him. "Your mother. You must've had a very odd childhood."

When he doesn't reply immediately, she looks up at him and sees a distant look in his eyes. "It was." He says softly. "It was odd, I suppose."

Softly she touches him, calling out of his little world. "It must have wonderful too." She whispers, guessing where his thoughts are. "Just to have a father. And a mother."

The smile returns to his face, making her smile in turn. "It was." He agrees. "It was very wonderful."

She turns to look back at the house. "You sure you want to live here?" She asks. "Out in the woods? In Oakvale?"

"Well… unless you really don't want to." There's a little cough behind her, and she can tell he's rubbing the back of his head. "I mean, I know it's not Bowerstone, or even Knothole Glade, but really it's just as close to the Guild, with the Cullis Gates and all. And sure, it needs some fixing up, but I can do most of that. I know it's maybe not what you were hoping for, but…"

"It's fine." She interrupts him, touching him on the shoulder and looking deep into his eyes. "It's _perfect_."

And as she pulls him down for a kiss, she feels for once that she is finally, truly, home.

**The End**

**

* * *

A/N: **So here we are at last. There might not seem to be much point to reviewing but... I still like them. And they still help me. So review! Tell me what you thought of the series as a whole, and what you maybe would have liked to see more of. I shall keep it all in mind.


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